I like to wake early, to take my breakfast tea in my
garden before I go to work at the hospital. My job
is stressful, but life is stressful at this time,
the war has seeped into our souls, we are all toxic
with grief.
My garden is beautiful, there is a solitary quiet
here, the morning is still, sunlight wraps and warps
around the flowers and leaves. I can hear Yaeko in
the kitchen, she sings a soft tune, complementing
the birds who are perched nearby.
I have yet to dress, it is warm and private here, so
I am happy to sit in my underclothes, and feel the
day rise from its slumber. Too often we do not take
the time to be with the nature that is around us,
and in turn, our own internal nature swirls
chaotically.
Chaotically, chaotically, the words are barely
formed in my head before they are rendered invisible
by the huge white light, and then another fills the
whole horizon. At first I am stunned into
immobility, I watch fascinated as a lantern in the
garden becomes brilliantly lit and I wonder whether
this is caused by a magnesium flare or sparks from a
passing street trolley.
The shadows in the garden recede. The birds have
stopped singing. Yaeko has stopped singing. The
view, which a moment previously had been glorious,
is now dark and hazy. Through the blurring dust I
can barely see my house, a wooden column that
supports the roof is broken and the building sags
dangerously.
I move instinctively, my mouth is filling with the
fine powder thrown up by the rubble, everything has
been pulverised, I can barely see. I struggle
towards the house, I want to find Yaeko. Sharp
things puncture me, looking down I see that I am now
naked, I wonder for a moment where my clothes have
gone, how strange that my clothes have disappeared.
I am bleeding, blood is gushing from a deep wound in
my thigh and I can taste blood in my mouth. I reach
up with my hand, I feel my cheek, it has been ripped
open. I reach down, I feel my thigh, a huge splinter
is embedded in my flesh. My neck hurts, I feel with
my hand, my shaking hand, and I find a large shard
of glass, which I remove, pull out, matter of
factly. I stare at the glass in my blood drenched
hand. I feel faint.
Where is my wife? Where is Yaeko?
I shout her name, I shout as loudly as I can, but
blood begins to spurt, I wonder whether my carotid
artery has been severed. I don't know where my wife
is. I think I might bleed to death. 'Yaeko, it's a
500 ton bomb. Yaeko, where are you?' And then I see
her, pale and frightened, emerging from our house.
Her clothes are torn. She is covered in blood. As
soon as I see her I know I have to control my own
panic. 'We'll be alright, but we have to get out of
here.'
We are alive, and we must get to the hospital, I am
bleeding profusely, I know that I need medical help.
We walk a few short steps, but I have to stop, my
breath is short, my heart is pounding and my legs
give way from underneath me. I am thirsty, so
thirsty. I beg Yaeko to find me some water, but
there is none to be had. All around us houses are
collapsing, we must go on.
I am still naked, and although I do not feel shame,
I am disturbed to note that all modesty has deserted
me. We round the corner and come upon a soldier
standing idly in the street with a towel over his
shoulder, I ask if he will give it to me in order
that I may cover my nakedness. He surrenders his
towel without a word and we walk on. Inexplicably I
lose the towel, but Yaeko ties her apron around my
loins.
Our progress towards the hospital is slow, I cannot
walk, the blood is leaving my body at a terrifying
rate, it is drying on my skin, mixed with the dust
that blows along the street. My legs will not carry
me, I cannot go on, I have no strength, no will, I
have nothing left in me. I tell Yaeko to gone on.
She refuses at first, but I tell her that she must
go to the hospital to find someone to come back and
get me. She agrees, she can see this is a reasonable
thing to do. She looks deep and hard into my face. I
can see myself reflected in her eyes. Without saying
a word she turns and walks towards the hospital, in
a few short seconds she is swallowed by the dusty
gloom.
I lie in the road, I put my head onto the warm
concrete, now I can only see sideways. I am passing
in and out of consciousness, blackness descending
from time to time, my mouth dry. The bleeding from
my leg starts again. I press my hand against the
wound, grinding in the dirt and dust, I press as
hard as I can and after a short while the bleeding
stops.
I rise, determined to go on. I must reach the
hospital. My movements are painfully slow but my
mind is running at top speed. I am sweating. I have
lost Yaeko's apron, once again I am naked. I come
into an open space, and through the dimness I can
make out the silhouette of the hospital in front of
me. My spirits rise, because I know that now someone
will find me, even if I die, someone will find me.
I stop to rest. I look around me. There are shadowy
forms of people, glazed and murky, the dust is
clinging to them and, although they are moving, they
look like corpses. Some look like scarecrows, their
arms held wide from their bodies, they are terribly
burnt and their raw skin surfaces agonise as they
rub together. I see a naked woman carrying a naked
baby, I look away, perhaps they had been in the
bath, but then I see a naked man, and I wonder if,
like me, the strange thing that had happened has
served to deprive us of our clothes. An old woman is
lying on the ground near to me, her face contorted
with pain, but she makes no sound, none of us make
any sound. In this dreadful hell of naked ghosts
there is no sound.
