Lost Hope
As we walked the jagged remnants of a skyline became clearer through the thick fog. A beacon of hope that promises to be full of what we need to survive. In silence, Layla and I stumble through the mixture of ash and snow that falls from the gray sky above, hope propels us as we stumble faster and faster towards our destination. As the skyline looms before us, I take in the buildings that lean on their neighbors, windowpanes with sharp glass protruding like gnarling teeth or some just missing entirely but I spot the occasional still intact window as we step onto the crumbling pavement. I imagine people peering down at us from those long-forgotten rooms. Rusted cars, overturned buses, and even one-half of an airplane litter our path into the city.