Dim light filtered through the vines growing over the hole in the roof. Dust danced in the mossy sunlight and drifted down to rest on the rusting metal tables. A bit of dirt and a chunk of crumbled stone fell from the edge of the hole and into the abandoned room.
The dirt fell with a soft sifting sound onto a heap of moldy papers. A single yellow shoot grew from the accumulated dirt, its head bent slightly to accept the new soil. The stone, however, tumbled through the air and crashed against a large glass vat, shattering both it and the silence. Somewhere far off, a raven let out a shrill caw. An acrid liquid seeped from the broken vat, staining the counter and dripping from the creature which had been inside. The creature was small and long, with ten centipedic legs along either side and stubby eye stalks protruding from its front. With some difficulty, it dragged itself to its feet, looked around the room, and scuttled towards the roots trailing down the far, sunlit wall.
Silence fell once more. The raven flew in circles overhead, trying to see the source of the noise. The building’s weathered, cracked exterior was choked with kudzu and creeping flowers, and the raven could only make out a small squirrel and swarms of insects. It opened its mouth slightly and squawked before returning to its nest.
The creature emerged from the roof just in time to see the crow swoop into a small room at the top of a massive building. Various plants grew out of the shattered windows and in the crevices of the building’s rusted frame, and titanic vines grew from the stagnant water flooding the ancient city. The soil beneath the water was scattered with clumps of asphalt—the remnants of a highway which had been slowly chipped apart by water plants and fish. An idle power line trailed from its pole into the flood, and a small family of birds clung to it as they pecked at darting water-bugs.
The small creature saw all this, then carefully picked its way through the shady kudzu and to the rubble-rocks below.