- May 22, 2020
- 1,397
Vacation was meant to be peaceful and enjoyable. Where work and worries wash off the body to allow the mind to heal from the tribulations of adulthood. And for Dora Duda it had been just like that. This was her first vacation after graduating from the University of Warsaw with a journalism degree and her first after getting a job as a low level reporter for a regional offshoot of the Polish News Agency. Underpaid, overworked, and with zero luck in the world of love, the devout Catholic had chosen to visit the Vatican City to allow her soul to be refilling with the peace that came from her religion. That is, until the air was driven out of her lung by an immense pressure wave akin to the ones seen online of explosive disasters. Fortunately for her, the explosion did little else to her than force her to gulp for air once she was able to.
After regaining her composure and belongings that had been knocked off of her shoulder, the young journalist would remove the DSLR Canon camera that she had brought along with her to record the trip and began snapping pictures of the aftermath. Smoke billowing from over the rooftops and the rhythmic barking of automatic gunfire a few blocks away.
Time appeared to slow as she carefully documented the disaster unfold before her, even taking the effort to take a picture of helicopters flying overhead just as they unleashed a torrent of heated metal propelled through an explosive chemical reaction aimed at the rooftops of the Vatican.
The smell of burning wood and sulfur burned the young lady’s nose as she positioned herself behind an ancient pillar supporting a portion of the Vatican’s buildings. Her heart palpated rapidly beneath her clothes with such fierceness that she would later swear that she could see her clothes bouncing with every heartbeat.
Ender
After regaining her composure and belongings that had been knocked off of her shoulder, the young journalist would remove the DSLR Canon camera that she had brought along with her to record the trip and began snapping pictures of the aftermath. Smoke billowing from over the rooftops and the rhythmic barking of automatic gunfire a few blocks away.
Time appeared to slow as she carefully documented the disaster unfold before her, even taking the effort to take a picture of helicopters flying overhead just as they unleashed a torrent of heated metal propelled through an explosive chemical reaction aimed at the rooftops of the Vatican.
The smell of burning wood and sulfur burned the young lady’s nose as she positioned herself behind an ancient pillar supporting a portion of the Vatican’s buildings. Her heart palpated rapidly beneath her clothes with such fierceness that she would later swear that she could see her clothes bouncing with every heartbeat.
Ender