Perfect Clarity

Language may divide us, but a cry of agony is universal.

In the dense, putrid air that consumed us on that day, we all communicated with perfect clarity.

A grown man howled in pain as he dropped to the ground, clutching his abdomen. A blood-curdling scream echoed from a small child as she covered her ears. Another knelt on all fours, bawling as blood and bile sputtered from between his lips. A mother wailed as she clutched the hollow shell of her child’s body.

We hollered hopelessly. Perhaps we would be able to hold our loved ones in our arms one last time. Perhaps our gods would hear our prayers and save us from certain death, despite the chaos of disease decimating everything around us. Perhaps our bellowing would distract us from our overwhelming fear of death.

The cacophony of cries saturated the atmosphere. Suffering was omnipresent. Agony was inescapable. Screams were conclusive.

We were the same: all human, all hurting, all helpless. We were strangers, and yet we knew each other more profoundly than our own kin ever had. We were vulnerable. We were together. We were understood. We were diseased. We were dead. But at least we weren't alone.

Words may have formerly failed us, but our cries of agony united us.