No light shown through the thick clouds that covered the sun. She sat beneath the old, twisted tree, watching the last of it’s leaves float across the glassy surface. These were the days she loved the most, when she could enjoy the solitude, she wished for all of her days to be like this. As she watched the scene before her, she thought back to the days when things were good. When her brother had taken her fishing by the pond and had taught her to read the animals’ tracks in the forest.
But that had all changed since the war. No longer was there a luscious forest, where for so long she had watched the small creatures play, no longer were there golden fish that swam just below the water’s surface, occasionally coming up to nibble at the bread she threw in the water, no longer was there soft moss to lie on and watch the long branches sway with the breeze, now she sat beneath the only tree to be seen for miles, now twisted and lifeless, the moss had dried up, scattered with the once beautiful fish’s bones, the water was now tainted with black oil, and the grass was no longer in
existence, only ashed dirt remained. The air was cold from the lack of sunlight, the only warmth she felt was from the hot tears that poured down her face. She wished the world could just learn to get along, because no one could except each other for who they were, because no one could stop criticizing each other for race and religion, because of all that her brother was dead, and the once warm and green earth was now burned and covered in ash.
She wiped her tears as she began walking back to her house. Though house was not the word for this atrocity, more of a shanty. It was nothing more than a pile of sticks and some tin tied together with wire cords. She placed her basket of roots and , the small amount, of other edible objects that she could find on the ground.
She had high cheekbones and a small, slightly pointed nose, her hair was black with frizzed curls, she wore a tattered dress, and a small locket, given to her by her brother.
As she set the fire, she made her bed, preparing for one of many long sleeps she would have to pass the days during this desolate time after the war.
The 360 West Project 