Yearning Into Reverie

On dark, cold soil, atop the soaring green turf, lay cold, rusty, nostalgic houses. The path that led to them was faded and shallow, with the feeling it could cave in at any moment. Scattered along that path were derelict vehicles from different eras each one different heaps of life. Fog filled the houses. It filled the cars too, like a raging campfire, too sinister to be put out. And yet here I am, wandering through this old-world neighborhood, yearning into reverie this faded memory feels like the perfect remedy.