And there she was, standing in this vastness of destruction. All alone, smoke coming out of every rubble. Wearing a little white dress stained with patches of ash and dirt. Hurt and distorted she stands with a look of confusion, tiredness and despair.
A little teddy bear in her hand she looks around trying to find something or someone. She looks through the destruction hoping to see past the smoke in vain. Starts walking in small steps, her little shoes with lovely white ribbons are no match for the cruelty of the rocks and burnt wood.
Stumbling here and there... Walking with no purpose and no destination.
A white rose in the distance among the smoke?!
No.
A speck of hope fades away.
YOU ARE READING
A White Haired Little Girl
Short StoryA short story that is a derivative of free writing technique, doesn't follow your typical structure of a story and could make all the sense to someone and no sense at all to another.
