Citrusy rays streamed across the sky, its sunny strokes smearing over the dimming minty horizon. Beneath the shimmering image, an army of trees shivered, the lush leaves shuddering against the gusty winds that garnished the afternoon atmosphere. Nearby, the shores of urban life collided with forestry. Mossy limbs spilled into the edges of cement, ending in the grayest pebbles. Darkness inhaled the colors and shapes of day, drinking the vibrancy from the veins of visibility. Licks of light crept into view as streets transitioned into blurry sun smears.

In the solitude of night, an alleyway churned with the presence of something formidable. The silhouette of a monster resided in the confines. Its rectangular and black lids had been left wide, the contents of its irises filling with grotesque garbage.  Cries, endless cries drained onto the pavement as soft pebble echoes. A lingering spool of one tangerine bundle remained inside the dreary eyes, almost like a tear inside its pockets.

Small fists, grimy and flushed, wailed against moist discards and cartons. Vocal cords trembled and bellowed out pleas in vain; the sounds fell unheard, tripped and slammed against the pavement and swept under the breezing traffic. The seemingly perpetual wails crumbled, and the urgency diminished as breathing became a shallow, vigorous endeavor. A sturdy quiet befell the crib casket, like a veil of silky premature conclusion.

                                                                               

In a distance, leafy fingers, outstretched and wide, grasped at the morning sun, fruitlessly yearning for its fluid embrace. A stain no longer painted horizon and its rays were replaced by a mirage of gray cotton blobs kissing the grayer sky above. The mossy limbs bended into itself, retracted and dead, and shrank away from the malignant crevices of civilization.