(tell me what you all think of it, please)
The breeze whisked across the dead meadow, the brown growth moaning in protest as the empty caverns of the valleys howled. The animals, dead and gone, the heat lapping the last breath of each living animal and plant, which couldn't survive though smart enough to take cover. The sun dangerously close to the ground, the surface cracking under the depressive heat. The skeletal remains of the once living turning to dust as the hallow breeze whistled through.
The ground was a burning gold as the stems of what-was vegetation, dried and easily broken by a gentle touch of wind. The craters of dried and c