She could remember the days of endless grass, soft and alive. She could remember the lake—welcoming, ready to embrace her. She could remember the trees, their leaves dancing how she wanted to.
Some days she would lie underneath the cobalt sky that stretched to the end of time. The sunlight kissed her skin gingerly and as she stared up at the canopy of waltzing branches, she found peace.
That peace was long gone along with the grass, the lake, and the trees. They were only memories and now when she peered across the land, all she saw was dust.
"DUST" is a featured 100-word story from the March Writing Challenge.
Mel Mazzeno is twenty-one and resides in the suburbs of Houston, Texas, with her fur-baby Winnie. She’s been writing since she was about six years old and doesn’t plan on stopping any time soon.