Rising

We were there when it happened. All of us. We watched from the ground, beneath the plumes of smoke, our eyes burning and watering and tearing. But we did not run. No. Not like the others, who screamed and ran in the opposite direction, passing through us as though we were merely wisps of smoke coming down from the fires. Only some saw us, their eyes wide with fear and confusion and terror, and they kept running, sometimes telling us to run with them. We never did. That was why we were so unlike them, these humans. They were so easily afraid.

I can remember a time when I, too, was afraid.