A lone figure stood at the empty lot, staring at the monumental remains of a building that once stood tall and elegantly in the darkness. Days had passed, yet the remains still smoked as small fires continued to burn away at the flimsy wooden structure that was now blown to pieces.
The lone figure bent down and brushed away some of the rubble around her feet and grabbed a small golden picture frame. The glass was cracked in many parts, the frame badly dented. The picture was somewhat torn, but those dark eyes still stared up at the sky with the same sorrow, pain, and tiredness.
The lone figure sighed as she chipped off the glass and slid the wrinkled picture out of the frame. She dropped the frame as she smooth out the picture. She eyed it slowly before she tucked it away in her pocket, shifting out of the rubble and towards a small gathering of people in the distance.
“Miss, are we set?”
The single figure nodded at the group and they all sullenly left the remains.
The lone figure glanced back and her fleeting eyes paused momentarily on a cabinet file somehow still intact a few feet away before she turned back and left with the group.