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August six nineteen forty-five. It was a fine morning and the Hiroshima sky was blue without any doubt, without any fear. A sudden flash of light, a sudden thunder-clap took away the beautiful sky from millions of innocent lives. No, this wasn t the first nor the last where humanity shed tears of blood but this is where the idea of my book, Paper Cranes took birth and I wish this beautiful legacy ... More

August six nineteen forty-five. It was a fine morning and the Hiroshima sky was blue without any doubt, without any fear. A sudden flash of light, a sudden thunder-clap took away the beautiful sky from millions of innocent lives. No, this wasn t the first nor the last where humanity shed tears of blood but this is where the idea of my book, Paper Cranes took birth and I wish this beautiful legacy of peace to continue. My paper crane maker Sadako Sasaki, only two years then, jolted out by the blast was later found in their garden, confused and not knowing the reason why? She survived only to suffer silent pain for another ten years, the fear of dying and the pain of leaving behind loved ones greater than the illness of her radiated frame, a tender soul made old too soon with grief.

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