Beasts of a Little Land

by Juhea Kim

This softer light was shimmering on the surface of the green grass, and far away the peaks of the Khingan mountains loomed blue. There was nothing that showed that a tremendous event had taken place—the instant death of an entire city from a single bomb. Only in the late afternoon did they receive the radio message about Hiroshima, and Yamada still couldn’t make sense of it. How was it possible, to have these light purple flowers swaying in the wind, the turtles swimming lazily in the lake, the trees spreading their branches and straining to grow as much as possible during this heatless summer—and then at the same time, have blinding white light, charred and melting flesh, faceless people in a city of ash? It was utterly senseless, this world—and to act as though it did make sense was the greatest crime.