Different time
“Hush little baby don’t say a word…Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird..”
The woman’s voice was carried away by the wind. Spiraling through the cracks of the tree branches, echoing away into the sky to be carried off by the clouds. Her voice was gentle, fragile, but so kind and loving as the words of the children's song kept on flowing through her mouth. It was winter time, the snow had covered every surface there was. Inevitably, it strangled the life of any small, living thing there was. Everything was dead silent, not even the birds who used to sing their happy songs could be heard. Barely any footprints of living things were left. And the woods… they were merciless. The mountains, white and sparkly, were simply not cooperating with the woman. Fields of pearly white
