4
It was raining.
Once.
Twice.
Every now and then it rained flooding the rivers and the ghost town that was located miles away from where she sat.
She listened to the pitter patter of the ice cold drops falling on the half collapsed shed she sought shelter in, hiding her face from the gray and black world she lived in. Afraid to see any hope of white.
When she woke up, there were different types of color surrounding her. The green, green sharp grass was covered in tiny drops of lukewarm rain that sparkled like diamonds, and the rustle of the green leaves from brown tall, wide trees decorated with small white flowers gave her hope. Standing up she turned in place soaking in the spectacular view around her. The warm heat from the bright yellow sun. The refreshing gust of wind. The sight of birds flying and chasing each other, chirping merrily.
She enjoyed it while she could.
She jolted, pressed her back against the wet weathered pieces of wood, exhaled sadly with half closed eyes, and cried.