The discreet smell of gasoline and oil and metal blown everywhere, yup, there had definitely been a terrible accident. I walk around, rummaging through the dust and burnt wood pieces, looking for past memories. I found some pictures of my family, but some people were burnt out. I recognized some people, my aunt Opal, my uncle Ike, and my sister Zulia. My mom’s and dad’s faces were burned out of the picture. I put the picture in my bag and continued to look around. kwa then, the flames died down and I could continue my tafuta farther.
    I found some zaidi pictures, but...