The boy stood firmly against the soft soil, mushed between two rows of bare pink toes, coupled with dirty toenails. The spinning wind rustled through the cracks of the boy's loose hair, flopping strands in every direction. The long grass swayed and tickled the boy's smooth skin, giving the false intrepretation of small insects buzzing on his arm. The sweet air was moist with freshness and the boy breathed in numerous times, letting the honey baked air swirl through his body and exterminate out his long and pointed nose. The submerging sun, now dipped half-way below the horizon, cast across its dying sunlight, striking the young boy and illuminating his dirty and mud caked face. This was his one moment where he found salvation in a world smothered with war and death, struggling between the