The road that led to and from Brickelwhyte was still somewhat discernible despite the many cracks and holes given to it by the elements. Dry grass, dying bushes and withering flowers are all that’s left of the once well kept gardens.
Remnants of packages and magazines still lay at some of the doorsteps, unopened and long forgotten. At least the animals got some use out of them. Many roofs had collapsed and in some cases had taken the entire building with it. Others looked in decent shape and were simply dirty and filled with bird nests.
Brickelwhyte , once bustling with life and brimming with light at this hour had been forsaken and left to rot alone. The many voices of a once bustling community were replaced with the many voices of wild animals and stray pets that had made this town their new home.
The once tranquil peace of mind people found in the park was now found by cats enjoying the sunshine and tall grasses. With nothing and nobody to bother them they had grown into a huge community of their own.
Street after street of abandoned homes made for a terrifying thought. Each house was once a home, a home belonging to a family and now there was only emptiness. But with nothing else to lose this town had a strange sense of comfort about it. Like a world of opportunity, except there was nobody there to take it.
What was once a wide avenue that led to Pontybridge was slowly absorbed back into nature as grass, flowers and small shrubs reclaimed what they can as fast as they can. Gardens once looked after and trimmed to perfection were now rough and overgrown, returning back to their chaotic natural state.
Many doorways still stood tall and in some cases it was one of the few things left of a home. But most doors were completely gone and only remnants of rotten wood were left behind. Broken cars and rusty pieces of metal littered some of the larger driveways, stripped from all but their most useless parts.
Pontybridge, once a pleasant quiet town and home to friendly folk was now a mere distant memory of better times. The many sounds of wild animals who’ve made their home in this town are carried in the wind and give it a new sense of liveliness and vibrancy.
Destroyed packages, remnants of forgotten letters and unpaid bills littered the floor of the post office. The smell of animal droppings clung to the air as much as the droppings did to the floor, the animals clearly loved the post office.
The more time would pass the more the traces of those who lived here will disappear. Even now there were only remnants left, it’d be only a short while until there was nothing left. But even though everything may seem like it was lost forever there was still a silver lining. While this town was no longer home to the families that lived here, it was now home to families of wild animals.
