Butterflies drifted effortlessly in the glow of the near rising sun. They settled easily on the surface of everything that came into their path as though the chaotic disruption had hardly even had an effect on their day. The sun’s light, shining through their brightly coloured wings was incredible, like dozens of floating church windows, tiny stain glass masterpieces.
Indeed if all one did was look up it would create the false illusion of harmony, even beauty, but what lay at the feet of the village was, in fact, the village itself. Not a single building remained, all collapsed, shaken to the ground as if nothing more than paper. Nothing but rubble could be seen.
Long, eerie shadows cast by the now rising sun stretched out like the long fingers of a greedy scavenger searching for any treasures that might remain.
Only minutes before the morning air had been filled with crashes and bangs as the small town had fallen victim as the earth trembled. She had never remembered anything so loud but the sheer silence that followed was so much worse.