Bombs were the last thing on his mind. He had to find Emma. He fought against the flow of people pressing against him. He had long ago given up on trying to be civil and careful with the people going the other way. Panic showed in their eyes as in his. Where was she? Emma he called, Emma. Louder, again and again. Emma! His voice cracked the lump in his throught killing all sound. He pushed harder pressing himself through tiny spaces between and over people. The farther he got the more chaotic his surroundings. Emma, he looked around, scanning the crowd. He caught a glimps of something light, a shade paler thatn the rest, a doll on the ground. His maind raced. Where was she. Daddy, the sound of a small child's voice, Daddy! He whirled around. In the arms of a small young woman was his child, his Emma. His arms around them both. Thank you! He breathed again.