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Rated: E · Draft · Environment · #1450807
It seems like it could almost be a prolouge, but to what?
The trees, acting as an extension of the Earth reached up to the sky, pleading for it to send rain.  Yet, the heavens remained still, unanwsering, not a cloud or gust of wind whispered a hint of relief.

So the land and it's creatures wept because the sky could not. But thier tears were not enough to quench the Earth's thirst.  Soo parched was the Earth, so strained.

Days past and the Earth, dry and brittle began to faulter under the endless torrent of the sun's rays.  Not a cloud would offered shelter, only the night brought some meaure of relief. 

Now barren are the plains that once teamed with life. Sunken and hallow are the river beads and lakes.

And so it is in these After Days
© Copyright 2008 Cher-Bear (benoc002 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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