This is a work of fiction. The characters and situations are purely imaginary, and any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental and unintended.]
Green were the mountains. Green were the trees. Green was the grass. Even the tank top she wore over her comfortable cargos was green.
She had been nine when she first saw the shades of green spring up on the barren rocks of the Western Ghats after the first monsoon rain. It had filled her with wonder. She returned every year to witness the miracle.
College would start in a few weeks. She had never lived away from home before.
She was apprehensive. She was excited.
Would the move be for her what the monsoons were for the mountains?
Drabble(n) - an extremely short work of fiction exactly one hundred words in length.