Elijah Villa

Harmony's Locket

The smell of burning wood along with the sound of flowing water awoke him. Aside from the sun showing through the black clouds, it was the start of a normal day. He yawned as he stretched out his scarred, thin arms, The man’s clothes resembled rags closer than they did a garment. He stood up from his cold blanket that he called his bed and began to tend to his raft. He went to his fishing net and pulled up a couple of guppies, a good breakfast in his eyes. Looking off into the distance he could see the smoke coming from what remained of land. He picked up his broken hand mirror that he kept around and began to talk to himself, or at least attempt to. His face looking lifeless, he stuttered out, “H-hello, sir.”