There was nothing but ash and burnt wood everywhere. No living being loomed the destroyed home. The only thing that was heard was a faint dripping noise in the distance. A tall, skinny white man leaned against what was left of the staircase. This man had really large, purple wings that seemed ripped and torn. Tears streamed down his cheeks for what seemed like eternity.
"Why did it have to end up this way?" the winged man asked. "She could have just stayed young forever. Right? We had such good times. Then she just had to grow up." The man closed his eyes and stared at the sky where the ceiling should have been, remembering all the fun times they spent together.
"Come on Billy" a little girl demanded. "The tea will get cold."
"I'm coming" Billy said. "My legs are tired."
"Then use your wings and fly. The tea is still waiting."
Billy stopped imagining the past for a brief moment.