This 100 word post is written for
Life's been drab since the hurricane, when I woke up staring at the churning gray sky. The crashing sound of Billy Bull hit by the roof had awakened me. I remember running out without having to open the door and be surprised by seeing what I saw for I saw nothing. Farm ruined, animals gone, even Kitty. Later I found her rotting corpse a mile North. Grandpa’s Red Maple gone.
Roofless ruined walls remain; closing in like tendrils of devil's hair and I, the heart inside the host tree - barely pulsating.
Slumber of certainty sometimes makes you miss saying goodbye.
