We look at one another. Are we really going to camp here? We’re in the middle of nowhere Mississippi, we have no map, there are no other people, and the forest may or may not be haunted by Nazi ghosts…
It’s night. A group of figures sits around a counter as light streams out of the building. You don’t know who they are or what they are thinking, but the scene feels familiar nonetheless.
What had once been a nuclear wasteland was now simply Hiroshima, and everywhere you looked were the signs of a living city that wasn’t haunted by its past.
