Dust covered the hilltops and roofs of the little town. Paint and wood were chipped, as if the little people hadn’t been touched in a hundred years. Looking upon the scene, you would’ve thought that someone had thrown things on a board and vomited wood shavings upon them. Looking closer though, the site was actually a hidden beauty. Tera lent in to blow away some of the dust, as the particles took off like spirits that had lain, rested for centuries.

Tera was an older woman in her mid fifties. She had hair as black as death itself, eyes that shone with such brightness sometimes you had to step back in order to see the green flints shining back at you, and her face was soft. She wore an expression of forever youth, although her age was wearing her thin. Today she wore a pink sweater with little daisies on it, over a long white gown and tiny blue slippers. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun to keep it out of her face for the time being.

As she lifted her head up from blowing away the dust, a small, sad smile crept across her face. She started looking over the scene, gently running her fingers around the multi-colored buildings, down the streets, through the lawns, and finally over the people that lay all over. The little people were laying upside down, right side up, sideways, front ways, and any way you could think of. Some were even hanging out of a few windows, as if their souls had been taken from them in the middle of shouting out the window for their families to join them for dinner. Their faces were chipped and worn. A few you couldn’t even make out a face.

Tera gathered the people in a basket that had been sitting close by. She carried them out of the attic, down the worn, wooden staircase, through the slightly disturbed kitchen, and down another flight of stairs. These ones were different though. They didn’t creak or lean. They were cold, damp and made of concrete. In fact, the whole room was. She sat the basket full of little people down on the steps and walked down into the dark room. A few moments later, she returned carrying a bag full of paint and other supplies.

Time to go to work.

Days and days went by, as Tera sat in her study and re-created every little person from the little town in her attic. Slowly but very carefully, faces and limbs were carved out, so that each individual person had its own character. Just by looking at one of them, you could imagine a personality they would have if they were alive. Some had blonde hair with little freckles; others had brown and black hair. Each outfit was different, as Tera has taken the time to paint a different pattern with added details to each and every surface. The only thing they all had in common with one another was the place in which they came from, and would soon be returning.