The cold
200 Words
Shivering, stumbling, sniffling, I kept walking, glancing around hopelessly at the barren wasteland surrounding me. Faint ghosts of the past looming over me. Decrepit, vacant, cold husks of once lively and colourful buildings painted in pain and sorrow. The darkness engulfing the sky, slaying the last meek ray of light as I continued forwards. An icy cold breeze blew over me, sweeping the last bit of warmth out of me, sweeping the last bit of hope away, disappearing with the wind.
I wandered through the endless shell of what once was, listening to the echoing shrieks and cries of the rotting buildings as I passed them. Clinging onto my hands I continued onward, with little hopes of the salvation I'd been promised. The leaves falling and turning to ashes I walked beneath the decaying lifeless trees.
Hours, days, weeks it all merged into one. When would it end? Would it end? I just wanted freedom, wanted to feel something once more. I continued down this endless road before coming to a halt. A woman with long hair sat at a desk before me with a note book. She glanced up, her lips parting slightly as she prepared to say something.
- Writer
