Where We Tread
Who knew this would happen. Without warning, the blaze hit like a volcanic eruption. Rivers and lakes became steam, and the charring land blackened.
We know we have to keep moving. We are heading east, to get as close to the sea-line as we possibly can.
The wreckage, the disaster, the panic.
Abandoned vehicles, mangled roads.
Broken down buildings, homes in ruins.
Drifters are all that are left, the lucky few that survived; or the unlucky.
We have to be as high above ground as we can; the earth is still scorched and the air is not breathable. Though, the farther east we travel, less dense is the fog that burns our lungs.
Time is no longer important, that stopped when the catastrophe happened. Now, all we have left is hope and faith, and even that dwindles.
Our homes and loved ones are gone. Millions have perished from hunger and disease. There really is nothing left.
We cannot go back, so all we can do is keep moving, keep travelling east and hope the salvation we are searching for awaits.
Warily and carefully we continue.
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Thank you Angela Goff for another VisDare writing challenge here