Destroyed In Seconds -

They take a second.

When the smoke cleared seven seconds later, the cathedral was a pile of rubble no taller than a man’s waist. destroyed in seconds

We measure history in centuries, but we erase it in heartbeats. They take a second

You do not remember the explosion. You remember the silence that follows. The dust motes floating in the sunbeam where a wall used to be. The single teacup left unbroken on the edge of the rubble. The way a man in a hard hat sits down on the curb and removes his glasses, even though he isn't crying, because he can't quite figure out how to breathe. You do not remember the explosion

We comfort ourselves with backups. We tell ourselves that "the cloud" is a fortress. But the cloud is just someone else’s hard drive, and someone else’s hard drive is always 0.4 seconds away from total annihilation.