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Post by transience on Jun 9, 2011 23:04:11 GMT
 The earth is no longer comfortable in her skin; she shifts and kicks like a newborn, and her every movement is a landslide or an earthquake or a hurricane. Places that were once safe-havens are reduced to cinders, and what was once cinder is crushed into ashes. Ashes, and home is gone – beyond the cradle of the Alps is a raw and smoldering country beyond habitation, too hot with Nature's anger and too cool with Her grief.
“That world is no longer ours,” we said, screamed, moaned, wept, as we stared into the remains of what we had had. “That world can no longer keep us.”
And so we left, crossed the blue-ridge mountains, into the land we had originally left behind: the places Outside the Valley.
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