Tower and Town, November 2021 (view the full edition)ButtonGrey clouds blanketed a small abysmal park, lined with rigid wooden fences and rough bushes that hosted no berries. The sun was invisible to Susan, her aged golden retriever, and her grandson Ben, who stood in the disappointing park on that miserable day. Susan's hazel hair was tucked into a ponytail and her poker face showed no emotion. She wore a dismal zebra-print sweater which felt like a fluffy Pomeranian, and three triangular-shaped buttons, decorated with two black stripes on each corner. The buttons were quite worn out; the sweater itself originated in the mid-1960s and had once been her mother's, before it landed itself in Susan's capable hands. Slowly, the first few raindrops landed squarely on her nose, narrowly avoiding her silver rectangle spectacles. The raindrops fell like pennies from a jar and landed in the sticky mud, making it ooze like butter in a pan. The wind whistled in Susan's ears like a roar of thunder and the air tasted fresh like newly cut grass. Silently, a singular button fell from her warm sweater, arriving in the oozing mud. As it was quite a far drop for a button, a single shallow crack appeared, snaking through the middle, replicating a leaf vein. The edges were caked in mud and the rain continued pouring down onto the unfortunate park. Pan, Year 7 |