It was a small town, quaint but with everything a family would need to live happy. There was a grocery store, now blackened within as if it had suffered a fire; a plumber’s shop, with windows still intact but a sign that dangled from a single rusted loop; a flower store, with weeds around the foundation and vines creeping up the façade; and they saw a fire station, with a fire truck still parked in the garage as if no one was interested in salvaging any equipment at all from the town. If all humans were to disappear from the planet, Widowsfield is what the world would look like a decade later. “This makes no sense,” said Paul as he held Alma’s hand. “Why would they just leave everything here? You can’t tell me there isn’t a fire station around here somewhere that could’ve used that truck.” “No, this isn’t how it was when I came back the first time,” said Alma. “The buildings were boarded up then. It wasn’t like this.” They spoke in hushed tones, afraid to alert anyone to their presence.
