Sunlight cast shadows like long bruises over the grime and detritus.

“Do you think people built all this?” Hannah’s voice echoed in the strange space.

He frowned at her, eyebrow raised. “People?”

“Yeah. The Old-Timers.”

He scoffed. “You listening to that crow?”

“She’s no crow.”

He shook his head. Kept walking.

“She’s just old. Besides, she knows things.” Hannah’s hands flailed.

He stopped. “Does she know where water is?”

“I mean about before. She said everyone had water back then.”

Skewed, dangerous stories.” He rubbed at a scab on his cheek. “Let’s just fill up the canteens and go, okay?”

Photo is copyright by Chris Peters. (100 words)

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