Amelia Leonhart

Hand of Love

The stale, cool light of dusk fell on his hopeful face as The Twin tore the window's tattered curtain away. The world outside was different again today, but not too different. The same broken windows adorned the city walls. The same abandoned cars populated the same scorched streets. The same silent sky bore the same forgiving light of a timeless Sun stuck in endless evening. The same unmoving stone statues of those who listened to Her stood strong, always with their hands hiding their faces. The charred corpses of those who turned Her away all wore the same pristine, twisted, maniacal expression. Dead colors. Always the same, everywhere. Except for one thing. A fresh breath charged into his lungs and filled his heart with new fire when he saw it. Today there was a sliver of green! A new path!