Flakes of ash whip past her
tear stained face as she stares aimlessly at the silent waste land. You could
almost see the remains of the disaster reflecting off each tear spilling from
her eyes, rolling down her ashen pale cheeks, creating specs of the only clear
and moving thing in the place she once called home. The apartment charred and
wrecked beyond recognition. Lionhearted people appear and extinguish scandalous
flames licking the walls with vengeance fighting over her aware and alive body.
She brings the crumple photograph out of her stitched pocket; it was a lovely
day then. The sun shining through fluffy, white clouds and cheery grins spread
on each one of their faces. She wishes to be there, smiling at their homemade
picture, sitting with her family without a care in the world. She squeezes her
eyes shut, imagining herself there. Her lips curl into a smile. Thick, acrid smoke reduced the visibility to near zero
and dark billowing clouds engulf her fragile body.
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