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Weekly Contest #354
Sweat pooled around the mask covering the lower half of my face. As I swiped it away, the grit of the dirt and ash that had already clung to it lightly scratched my skin. I wasn't sure if I should be irritated because an open wound is dangerous here, or relieved that something wanted to cling to me. The glare from the burning heat made looking ahead hard, but I knew I had to push through. In front of me are the remnants of a neighborhood, one that was full of life at one point in time. White picket fences and gnomes and manicured...
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