Rain used to be a sign of life. When the sky turned grey and the air tasted of churned Earth, the kids would play. Now it's fear, and death. The rain will kill all it touches. Slowly or not, it's never worth the risk. So we wait it out under a decaying roof. Hoping that the barrier between us and the chemicals lasts.
3 February 21, 2023, 02:37 0I can't breathe. My daughter has the air purifier pressed to her face, and it is not yet my turn. Each breath I take is of putrid and corrupted air. The dead Earth is the fault of our past, and the people who refused to see the way our planet changed. Fires. Flood. Droughts. The green is gone, as are the animals who once roamed. Now it is our turn to die, and it is only our fault. I don't know how to tell my daughter that it's my turn. It's okay. I can't breathe.
4 September 02, 2022, 15:16 2"Whore." They whispered. Still, she stood tall. "Witch." They spat. Still, she did not lower her head. "Bringer of evil!" They yelled, rope in hand. Even as the fire began to burn at her feet, she felt no need to bend to their words. For she was no longer one of them, she had grown beyond morality and flesh. So sad they were, stuck in the muck of conformity. Would they ever break away from what chained them? She would never know, as she was free.
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