• Elena awoke to the putrid smell of compost, and the constant noise of buzzing flies. The glaring sun shone brightly in the evening heat, the rocky bed of waste below her was reeking with age, and Yucca Mountain had never seemed less welcoming. Mounds of junk blocked the child's view of the sky; old half-decomposed toys, rotten food, broken electronics, soiled clothing, scraps of paper and tin, the remnants of newspapers, and even nuclear waste was all that could be seen for miles.
    But although any other person in their right mind would held their nose in disgust, Elena felt pity for the unwanted objects, left to rot forever in this despairing land. Most had no doubt been thrown out for reasons that made her heart sore: They was no room for them, they had been uncared for, they were old and or no longer interesting, or a better object had replaced them.

    At times, while trudging through the litter, Elena spotted several treasures. But having no place to keep them, she reluctantly left them to welt. Who was she to care for anyone, when their was no one to care for her?