Content warning:
An Alternate Ending for “The Breakdown of Family N” in Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum
In the morning hour,
when the pale grass is still frosted with black dirt,
I walk on the plain of death.
Outside, the earth is scorched and wretched,
the soil still darkened by rain.
Faceless souls dancing in its ashes,
Greeting at me like an old friend.
Distant burnings and flashes of light,
Vanishing behind my steps.
Drenched in the water’s blessing,
I catch the fish for my son tonight.
He deserves a better dinner
For the long, long night
When night falls in a shadowed cloak
I caress my son’s cheeks
His skin perfect and unharmed
I place my broken hands on his neck
Waiting for the embrace of darkness.
Tonight, we shall join his mother,
And the city that was already there.
With a warm breeze kissing my cheeks
I wake at dawn
My boy is still breathing.
A voice whispers in my ear, demanding that
We stay and face another day
Like the flower petals fall in the storm,
and blossom again.