Cloudiness

Like a dirty gray blanket, could cover the whole town. Over houses, roads, and infrequent passers-by on evening streets. Smog wasn't very dense, but it stretched all the way to the horizon, and there, at sunset, the sun red line was abruptly cut him. Together with the clouds he slowly, under the pressure of the wind, climbed the hill, and went down into the plain. And the wind, as you know, with character, is free, easily avoids obstacles. Fire brought to the city smog. The forests were burning, huge, wild. There have been no people in them for the last thirty years, or even more. The forests were poisoned, but gradually got rid of toxins, grew free. The extent of their existence was disrupted by a lit spark. The earth became blacker than night. First the grasses caught fire, and then everything burned down. In these forests was the epicenter of grief and suffering, broken fates, pain. And if it hadn't rained, the fire would have got there. Above the city, in puffs of intricate clouds, the air was saturated with smell of cinder.