Looking at the picture, she couldn’t believe it was so serene a day ago. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue with tiny powder puff clouds. It was surprisingly warm for Spring in the midwest. A welcome relief from winter’s blast. She’d been smiling and enjoying the wind chimes. A camera flashed; or had it really been a camera, she’d never know for sure. It didn’t matter now, the damage was done.
Beyond the houses, in the small piece of sky she could see, her eyes followed the column of cloud up, up, and up until it branched out like an umbrella, becoming a large mushroom. It’s appearance, the beginning of the end.
It had been all so serene just last week.
(134 wc, hope that fits within the guidlines, now.)