62/

They arranged us into crouched rows with our backs to the bow; I pressed my face so tightly to my palms that red strobed against my lids. Don’t look at the flash, they’d told us, and nothing more. We whispered it in repeated prayer until the light burst through — so brilliant we saw our bones — and shocked us to silence.

I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it, after they’d sounded the all-clear and led us back to the beach. Thank you for your service, they said, as we sat dazed beneath scorched palms, bodies still throbbing from the phantom heat that had consumed us. And when some of the younger men saw the rain come, they couldn’t help but dance and tip their heads back in relief, not knowing it was black.