The wind blew restlessly, scattering leaves and dust in its path. Though it chilled, Sora did not pull her coat tighter, or shiver in the dimly lit dusk. The stars were already overhead and she walked with steady resolve along the drive towards her ancestral home. When she had played here as a child, tall sycamores had lined the cobbled path and the wilderness waited only a few steps from the driveway. Now carefully tended hedges and overly green lawn stretched as far as the eye could see. A rose garden grew peacefully along the west veranda of the house.
Coming here always filled her with an irrational remorse and anger for the spreading disease called suburbia. All that was missing was a white picket fence and a few obnoxious little dogs called "Muffy" or "Fluffy." Fortunately, this was
