Rescued?

I offered a final supplication on behalf of my stevedore, then continued to make my way through the streets, heading southward, as he had instructed. Oh, reader, the sights I saw as I journeyed toward what I hoped would be safety! Many more buildings had been ransacked and were now burning, and broken glass, smashed furniture, and other debris filled the streets in the wake of the horrid mob.

     I stayed close to the buildings, scurrying from one trash heap to the next to remain undetected. Pigs now rooted about the mounds of garbage in the streets, scavenging and feasting on the carcasses of dead cats, squirrels, dogs, and rats. I came upon another trampled and bloodily beaten body of another man, this one with dried blood mixed with dirt caked inside a deep gash in his throat, his mouth agape. The grotesqueness of what I beheld was too awful for words. I looked away and continued past more riotous destruction. 

     As I advanced to the middle of the next street, I saw a policeman standing outside a gray brick building. Would he help me? I cautiously moved toward him. He turned and looked at me with astonishment. I didn’t know whether to approach, his gaze was so strange and arresting. Finally, he broke the silence.

     “You’re not a ghost,” he said. “But you well might be, all by yourself. I don’t know how you made it, but you’re here. Come inside with the others.” He led me into the building, which I later discovered was a police precinct.

     To my surprise, inside were all my companions from the orphanage! Infants, little ones like me, the older children, and my beloved teachers!     

[TO BE CONTINUED.]