The soil is damp from morning rain. This place is so peaceful. Clouds float above the grass that is gently swaying in the wind. Connie looks around at this place. Two years ago she wouldn’t have recognized it, wouldn’t have really believed in it.

Coming from the city to the field is like suffocating and finally finding oxygen. This is her favorite place to be. Maybe it’s a bit of her being frantic that it will change. Though, maybe change isn’t such a bad thing.

She still remembers the woosh of air, the loud bang, and then the gears that clattered on the ground. Dandelions still grow here, like they did back then, but now sunflowers and daisies and grass grows. They are healthy and came back stronger than before. Most plants have an immunity now, or at least a resistance to the toxic air that plagued this worlds outside for so long.

Sometimes she looks to the clouds and almost sees a hint of disease, but almost all of it has been washed away by rain or purified by the plants she and her friends grew.

Connie steps across the soggy grass and the gentle sloping hill until she arrives at the top of the hill. Flowers grow close together here, planted by many. Her friend is waiting for her, like always. “Hey Mel.”

Dandelions are still the most prominent plant in… probably the whole world right now. They have become a symbol of peace for many. They grow everywhere here on this hill. Connie herself definitely planted more than one.

She plops down next to the gravestone and talks about her day.