The overhead power lines gently trembled under the weight of chirping winter birds. The nearby tree tops were all but shorn of their autumn red leaves. The cracked slabs in my exercise yard glistened under a light frost; the skies above grey and heavy. It said to me what I already knew, and had finally accepted: I’d seen my last summer. No more for me the smell of the warm waters of the bay; the sun on my face; the smiles, the laughter – the innocence. All I had left of this world was its cold, its emptiness, its despair. Yet I had made my peace. I was ready.
These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challeng