Chicago was massive, once beautiful and alive. I had no memories of it, though James assured me I visited it once before. He insisted it was one of my favorites, and I could see why. From what was left, I saw monstrous buildings, exquisite and intimidating, towering over the radiant lake that stretched into the horizon. The summits of the towers effortlessly touched the sky as they stood with graceful authority. Despite the wreckage, I acknowledged Chicago’s remaining artistry and could only imagine how much more resplendent it once was.
The size of the buildings grew as we marched on. Each block was bigger and emptier than the one before. It felt strange, eerie, to see them left behind, unused and uninhabited; Silence lined the offices behind fallen walls. Vacancy enveloped the visible hallways of city homes. To look upon the dark, motionless windows, broken and dirty, chilled my skin. Small birds fluttered in and out of the broken glass – scavengers finding little luck.
Copyright 2011 Trista DiGiuseppi