Rafa braced himself against the bottom of a wall and wheezed for air. The northeast wind continued to fan the raging fires, producing more soot, and mixing with the clouds of dust. On all fours, Rafa worked his way forward. Others crept out of the wreckage too. Some bled with broken limbs, others stumbled about in search of family, responding to cries for help and the wails of screaming children. Wounded animals whimpered and snorted. Rafa stopped and placed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the incessant agony of others, the moans and groans of not only people but their actual homes on the verge of collapse. He tried to imagine the street musician’s merry melodies.
Fires leapt up from every direction of the Mocambo.
Rafa crawled until he reached his home.
The aloe vera plant
