After the Hurricane
Strangely, this random little tale (not quite a story, not quite a poem) was inspired by this article, a conversation with Diana, and my latest bought of insomnia.
After the Hurricane
A gray squirrel stood at the edge of the road, staring helplessly at the fallen trees strewn across the valley. His home, demolished, in one horrific night.
Across the road, a man surveyed the remnants of his trailer, shredded by a merciless storm unhindered by human morality.
Each was tempted to take a few steps back and let oncoming traffic clear their minds and free them of this unfathomable loss. But instead, each ventured forward, digging through the debris for treasures buried by disaster.
After the Hurricane
A gray squirrel stood at the edge of the road, staring helplessly at the fallen trees strewn across the valley. His home, demolished, in one horrific night.
Across the road, a man surveyed the remnants of his trailer, shredded by a merciless storm unhindered by human morality.
Each was tempted to take a few steps back and let oncoming traffic clear their minds and free them of this unfathomable loss. But instead, each ventured forward, digging through the debris for treasures buried by disaster.
posted by SpakKadi at 1:04 AM
1 Comments:
I'm honored that I helped inspire a story. *sniff* Now I feel bad for my thoughtless comment on your insomnia post. LOL.
Post a Comment
<< Home