FicWad

A morning rising, orange, delicate. First sunlight throws blackness, with ease, away. At least, that's what he remembered. Now the darkness seemed too thick for morning light to pierce, thick enough that the sun desired not even to try. Instead, the air choked, and the sky filled with dust and smoke, not the light and the blue that should have been there. When the sun did pierce through the black clouds, it burned the eyes, no longer giving hope. It didn't even offer warmth on a cold, dank day. And the memories of sun's warmth and comfort made it worse.