That eerie morning

Five o'clock in the morning. The twilight of the rising sun had been bestowing an eerie peace upon mankind. In utter silence the branches of trees and the petals of flowers swayed left. The coos of birds heard only by what could be seen. The boys and girls who ran round the grounds, their footsteps could only be heard from the eyes. And droplets of water had started spilling and pinching the man in the suit.

The grass that once swayed left was meeting its roots as the man stomped forward. The crushed grass could feel the droplets of water that fell from heaven. That eerie silence, those jolly screams absorbed by air, and that scared intellect of man in denial of nothing.

And the screams of the caught girl in tag could now be heard. The falling rain vibrated in the ears. The thunder was heard by all. And the crushed souls of the grass laid waiting for its screams to be heard. The sounds of the swaying flowers and the branches of trees were running with no end in sight. The creases of the man's suit could not be heard even by the man himself.

The whether was danger, the man went to the silent shelter. The parents comforted the screaming girl as the shy grass went and died in the dirt. The trees had fell and others had watched. Prometheus was happy, Artemis was not.