Outside the window it's hot and the warm wind blows weakly in the little girl's long hair that hangs loose over her bare shoulders. Her gaze runs along the small lake all the way to the barely snow-capped mountains in the far north. She seems to flee from everything, letting her gaze lead her far away from all misery. Then her eyelids flicker and she's back to where she stands, right at the edge of the deep dark lake that sparkles in the weak sunlight.
The faint glimmer of happiness in her eyes disappears and it is slowly replaced by a plain look when she realises that she only daydreamed. A shivering sigh is released from her and it travels over her lips like a weak stutter just before it fades away. She now directs the steps towards the small bridge that reaches out a little bit into the water. She walks out on it with uncertain steps and sits hesitantly with her feet just above the surface before she lets them touch it. It seems to feel cool against her sore legs because she looks a little relieved when she lowers them completely into the water. But even that tiny expression of happiness disappear quickly.
Even if it's June it's unusually hot. Even if the sun is struggling to shine through the clouds that cover the sky like a thick grey blanket, the heat could be compared to a very hot summer day. The trees sway a little in the wind and in the long grass. The grass that used to have dew on it, but it evaporates before early morning nowadays.
The little girl is still sitting with her slender feet in the water. But she does not drag them through it or splash with them. She just sits, frozen in time, and looks at her gloomy and tired face in the water which slowly twists and comes back when a gust of wind blows by. Her fingertips gently travel along the surface of the water and they leave small circles that spread over the lake. After a while she gets up, wiping her small dirty hands on the worn out pants. They're made of a leftover curtain that she had found and sewed together by hand. They are appealing and clearly well sewn, but after constant use for a long time they have worn out, and now the fabric is rough and the colors matte. She gazes towards the edgy mountains again with one last longing look before turning her back to the lake and walking away with stumbling small steps. A singe tear makes its way down her dusty cheek.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
September 2030
Ficción GeneralWW3 is destroying an already conflicted world, with Europe as its main battlefield. In the middle of it all, a girl with a shattering past and advanced survival and fighting techniques is searching for her lost brother. Her decisions are completely...
