She stared as she felt the destruction of her childhood, she watched as she the home she grew up in got demolished unable to move, unable to do anything but look and weep silently.
Sweeping her eyes around, a new wave of nostalgia passed within her. Vivid memories replacing the desolate scenes they were now. She reminisced for it was the only thing she could.
She smiled as many familiar places jumped at her carrying an undertone of melancholia within them. The fun she’d had once, all the brilliant moments she’d experienced tainted now.
Her eyes rested on two old and decrepit armchairs and despite her sadness, she smiled bitterly. She could see her grandparents sitting there regaling her with tales of old, her tiny self, hanging on their every word.
As a piece of an old tree fell on top of them, she turned away, brushing tears she hadn’t seen fall. She kept on walking, not daring herself to look back, not able to witness anything more.
Word count: 168
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by the lovely Susan. Been a while since I’ve last written anything so I hope I’ve done alright.