Petrified and worried, shaking and frightened, the sight of the war-torn, hostile street made Hazel shiver. She had lived in this same street for thirteen years and now, everything, everyone, was gone.
Hazel palpitated under her mauve rags. “The war ruined it all. Everyone, everything, it’s all gone,” she cried gazing at the tearful, demolished scene, at the same time nibbling on her only source of food, carrots. The only thing she had left, was a picture of the one thing she wished she had right now; her family.
With that she, took out another picture, this time of her best friend, Albert, who had a heart of steel. He was always there for her, whenever she needed him; every time, except now.
Bereft and crestfallen, she looked around and thought, “No matter where, home is home. But what’s a home without a family?”