Write: A World Not My Own

For today's exercise, I want you to sit for ten minutes thinking of how the earth would look if we did nothing about pollution and trash.  What does this mean to you?  Would the world be the same or would it be something completely different?  What are your feelings on recycling, reducing, and reusing?  Write it down.

Here we go....

I dreamed I awoke in a world not my own.  Where were the bird calls in the tree outside my window?  Where was the shush of leaves gently moving against the siding?  Where was the beam of sunlight on my pillow?  I thought nothing more of it, deciding that traffic was heavy and the day was overcast.  I went through my routine, getting ready and out the door. 

But I went no further than that.

Gone was my world.  The birds were no where in sight, driven away by an inhospitable place.  Only the crows circled in the gray sky.  Their raucous cawing could barely be heard.  Maybe they were not happy about swooping in and out of the dumpsters left open.

My beloved tree, once full of leaves and life just outside my window, was barely tall enough to reach the roof.  It's bare branches twisted and lifeless, full of plastic bags masquerading as leaves.  The breeze blew one away to cartwheel down the packed street, ducking between cars and floating higher on exhaust.

Cement sidewalks and steel scrapers stretched as far as I could see.  No green space or yards, just trash covering the dirt plots in front of a few houses. A few clumps of wilted dandelions tried to bravely grow between the cracks. 

A roll of thunder made me look up, praying for the clouds to open up.  At least a fresh, new rain would clean my spirit, feed my hope.  But the rumble came from a passing semi and the drop that fell on my cheek burned at the touch.