It was morning but the heat was already unbearable. The narrow streets were crowded with people, especially women with children in tow buying fruits and vegetables. Carts laden with the farmers' choicest produce lined one side of the street.
A woman clutching a basket moved rapidly through the crowd, her eyes darting anxiously in different directions. From time to time she used a small handkerchief to wipe the perspiration on her forehead. A group of men were talking in the town square about an impending volcanic eruption but she did not pause to listen. It seemed such a remote possibility as the mountain had been dormant for many years. Then she heard a familiar voice and hastened in that direction. Her missing son was playing merrily with a group of young boys. She was so relieved that she did not reprimand him for wandering away while she was choosing some apples.
The boy, upset that he could not continue to play, followed his mother back to the market place reluctantly. They saw some horses outside an inn and the boy noticed that the horses were behaving strangely. They were rolling their eyes and stamping their hooves. Suddenly, they heard a loud cry and a young man was pointing to the mountain in the distance. A thick black cloud was rising from its summit and it eventually blocked out the sun. Then hot ash started spewing from the mountain.
There was complete darkness and people began running in different directions. Children who were separated from their parents stood in the streets and wailed. Merchants abandoned their carts and people left their homes in a hurry. The terrified boy clutched his mother's hand tightly as they tried to escape.