The stars overhead flickered. The sun, barely peeking over the horizon, was red, and brilliant orange lines of light radiated out from it, becoming hazy in the smoke above the city. The city was barely a silhouette, the black buildings jutting into the sky, contrasting against the dark-blue sky. The neon signs which were scattered among the buildings cast a purplish light which shone throughout the city, creating a mysterious glow which spanned the entire skyline.
The vast, rolling hills which spread out before the city were covered in tall grass, which was tinted orange by the sun and appeared to almost be living flame – swaying this way and that, back and forth, akin to a giant sea of golden red fire.
The lone figure stood there, on the tallest hill for miles, watching the city. Her hair swayed, and her ragged clothes shuddered as the wind passed around her. The city was beautiful. And so were the hills. But soon it would be nighttime, and the sun would sink. By then, the landscape would be cast into darkness, and not a single blade of grass would be distinguishable from the rest. The animals would scurry to their burrows for the night.
But the city would be brighter than ever. The colors in the signs would explode with full force, lighting up the sky with their bright neon imagery. And the lights in the windows, now scarcely visible because of the sun, would glow bright. The city would remain like that till day. The dawn would be beautiful. A light mist would cover the landscape, a fresh smell in the air – the smell of a new day.
The grass would blow gently in the morning breeze, which would push away the humidity. The sun would rise, casting the city in golden light. The animals would creep and crawl, one by one, out of their burrows.
But once it turned to day, all the mystery would vanish. The city would be normal. The hills would look dry. As the sun sank and the figure turned away, she knew she couldn’t wait for the next sunset.