All witness accounts line up. The single column of smoke rising from the center of the first district made its first appearance two days ago.
I went into the city to investigate. I walked to where the gates to the first district once stood. They have been removed, and the gap walled up.
An easterly wind pushed the smoke in this direction filling the sky overhead. It bore with it the sound of cymbals and drums.
I turned my back on the sights and sounds and strode away. A man came out of his house and stopped me. He asked what it all meant. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Nothing good.”
Peace returned to me in the walled courtyard.