This city is my home yet it symbolizes death. The death of my comrades on these streets during a war I loathe to remember. The death of my family in an explosion I was lucky to evade. The death of a lover in a car accident. A cursed place, it seems, but my home nonetheless. Perhaps that’s why I found myself here after I died.
I wonder if I’ll meet them all again.
Belated response to the Daily Post prompt — city.
Thank you for reading=) Feel free to tell me what you think in the comments!