The sky was grey, and the clouds hung low and kissed the trees with tongue. This was smog-in-your-lungs weather. She took note of the ambiguity of the tree line. She paused-

              the soil became

              painfully aware of the

              drip, drip, drop

Has it always been so warm here? So vibrant? Is the scent of the flowers always accompanied by an ache in the stomach? The plant carcasses crunched beneath her feet, sighing as they turned to dust. As she walked the crunches got louder, louder, turned to whispers, turned to voices.

              the overwhelming whine

              will you deny it?

              the plants extend their leaves

She forgot her destination. The colors swarmed her senses, breathed hot air on her face. She is unable to ignore any longer.



              Hunger overcame the girl. A piece of fruit falls in her lap, everlasting.