The deserted school

The blue clouds rolled and separated letting the sun rays pass through; hit the roof and reflected back. The roof shined silver; the speckles of dust could be seen on the array of golden light.

The school was surrounded by three dozen trees. The bark on the trunk was rough and streamlined. The sticky golden sap from those green-red trees smelt of hot chocolate that filled the atmosphere. The canopies joined together forming a large umbrella shading the school. A jewel blue stream flowed splashing, sloshing and squishing that curved through the school. Occasionally, a family of white duck quacked and paddled on the water. The barren playground was about a hundred feet big that layed untouched. The breeze flew leaves that fall on the ground and dropped it on the other side of the school or on the roof or sometimes brought back to its original place.

The plants withered and coloured brown as it threw its head on the million rotund red pots which stood on the long corridor guarding the school.

The school was small with ten classrooms and one teachers' room. There was only silence that followed along with the cold wind or the croaking of the frogs or the squawking of squirrel or the buzzing of the bees. The rough jagged dry wall outside was painted bright coloured yellow and the inside was pale white that seemed blackish as the hand marks of students got permanently fixed. The smooth wooden doors creaked as the wind pushed it open. The coars floor cracked and the microscopic dust particles settled in between them. The cobwebs glowed when the door opened absorbing the light. It covered the black ceilings, the broken door handles, chairs and desk. Two massive beehives hanged from the east side of Sycamore High School.

The school seemed to embrace the loneliness and hence decided to spend an era by giving shelter to the innocent animals and the leaves and the dust.