Tattered clothes, pale lips.
He looked like a skeleton wrapped in skin, his face carrying a whiff of death.
This is the state of this group of disaster victims.
Blindly following the crowd ahead.
The fields by the road, so dry they couldn't clump together, seemed like flowing sand.
And some trees, their leaves already withered.
The siblings stopped at a spot, right on the national highway outside the base, less than a kilometer away from the base.
"It should be around here. Remember?" The sister suddenly stopped, turning to her brother.
The brother looked at the nearby buildings, then at some of the farmlands. He remembered it was raining at the time, with farmlands and trees around, but now it has been dry for so long, some trees had already died.
Even the weeds by the roadside no longer grew, because they also had died.
