Isaac Hallberg
Stories (1/0)
A Heart
She clutched the locket by its chain in her hand, crying as she huddled in the corner of the demolished building. Her fire burned steadily, its small light the only thing keeping the cold of the night away. In another time, this would have been spring. Flowers blooming, birds singing, animals coming out of winter habitations, the world rising anew from the depths of winter like a phoenix rising from the ashes. This was no ordinary winter. The world had burned in the fires of a nuclear war and now there was no spring. No summer. No fall. Only winter. A world burned to the ground, deserted cities the only evidence that anything had ever lived. Of course, there were those like her. Survivors. Ones who had been in a shelter when the first nukes were launched. The “best of the best,” chosen in the years and decades prior to the war as the most fit to propagate humanity should an extinction event happen. She was not one of the ones in a bunker.
By Isaac Hallberg3 years ago in Fiction