The Pyle Inside

Like in the eye of a storm, there was a deathly quiet that surrounded the park. The basketball hoop was lonely and desolate, with nothing but the leafless trees keeping it company. In the distance a colorful mural covered the side of a building, mocking the solemnity and dreariness that surrounded this forsaken place. Children didn’t dare come here in the harsh, cold winter months in fear of turning something that was once pleasant into a hardship. Furthermore, the chirping of the birds, which had once filled the area with a cheery chorus, ceased to exist. The only sound that could be heard was the occasional steady gust of wind, accompanied by a monotonous whooshing. The grass, which was once proud and orderly, now grows sparsely in the shade of a lifeless brown. But little did we know everything would begin to change.
With each sunrise in the coming months, hope began to embrace its welcoming arms around the park. The army of birds began their jubilant melody of chirping once more. The sunlight shone on the now crisp, green grass blades like a beacon of hope. Then came the children out of their long hibernation, with months worth of pent-up energy ready to spring free. No longer was the basketball hoop lonely because of this, considering it seemed to be bombarded with balls every moment. Moreover, the now lush fields of grass surrounding the area didn’t have to go to bed with the rest of the town each night in fear of waking up to another miserable, lonely day. Instead, it might dread the sense of being trampled. In conclusion, in a matter of months, the feeling of bleakness surrounding the park turned to hopefulness, and an unnatural peace turned into the excitement it was destined to host.