nprofile1qy2hwumn8ghj7un9d3shjtnddaehgu3wwp6kyqpqz4evr98dl2rnn3rgxt98y03le37zk9gx7f35jpa9ae2c0z9uhuxqqgr5c7 (nprofile…r5c7) Every night, I come home and I’m so settled and I love my house and car and I’m near my family and friends and and teaching, and everything seems too good and comfortable to leave on the surface. Then I remember what’s about to happen. I’ve been packing up to make it feel less like home.
Did people in cities destroyed by volcanoes feel like this?