Bab 77: Fated to die

The old wagon pulled by old horses trudged slowly down a little dirt lane.

The turn was covered by a lot of bush so if one did not know the area well it would be very easy to walk past it without knowing that a side lane was there.

An old woman held the reins, her hands were spotted and filled with veins, as she controlled the horses.

Her grandson trudged alongside the wagon moving just as fast as the old tired horses if not faster. 

They lived in the poorest side of Hellshire lands but Nana had grown up there all her life and truly loved the place since it was all she had ever known. 

Where they lived on the outskirts was right next to the town dump, where all the trash and debris had accumulated over the years to one big heap as tall as a hill. 

Every now and again the community would set fire to the pile of trash so that new trash could be added.

Black smoke filled the sky and the ash would be blown by the wind from miles away.