For months after, the sky was an abnormal flame red, burning with the intensity of a thousand suns; the sunsets were all scarlet, flashing with colors of passionate crimson and streaks of carmine dancing about like exuberant people, giddy from the ecstasy of an exotic party.

Human beings are cynical creatures. We were all so disillusioned – our false sense of security lulled us into an imaginary state of well being.

There were many people living on our island at that time – some were brawny, some tall, some short, and others were too plain to be worth describing.

Our island was something that was talked about in all four corners of the world; it was laden with hypnotic promises of adventure and what tomorrow would bring.

Westerners sailed into our ports, and trade quickly blossomed into a rose of wealth.

We forgot our jittery, forlorn nature, and soon adapted to life with foreign traders in our harbors.

Why am I telling you this, you say?

Simple – I remember.

I was there the day the world exploded.