Liz Bennett

It Had To Be Worth It

She sat on the back doorstep, looking out across the valley at the jagged skyline. This had once been home. All that remained of the town was crumbling brickwork and blackened, skeletal roof beams. This side of the hill had been slightly protected. Her house still had a roof and walls. There were even still a few packets in the cupboards; moulding tupperware pots in the silent fridge. Nothing retrievable. Any tins had long gone. A thin layer of grey dust coated every surface.