The field of grass lays in solace, emptiness filling it's sky. The sun no longer shines on it, even on the brightest of days. This field, while still visible to the eye, is dead. Dead as an insect who has just been caught by a human eye. It's monument is its own corpse of dead grass, dead animals, and dead aura. No one walks on its once living soil anymore. If someone were to step foot, they wouldn't feel anything, both physically and emotionally. Sunlight's absence clarifies its true non-existence. The field used to have life. It used to have it in a large amounts. But everyday it would lose something. Sometimes it would just be something simple like a flower or a twig on the ground. But other times it would be something like one of it's human inhabitants, the most alive activity it had. Everyday there was something lost, a slow decay if you will. Now, one thing you might be asking is: what was the last thing that disappeared? What was the only thing this field had by its last day of true life? What died not by itself, but with this plain? A flower. It was a flower.