Thing I wrote yesterday (I had been reading about the American Revolutionary War and feeling bleh and anxious):
The sun set. All hope was obliterated. Specters of despair chortled in glee. Their invisible wraith-like bodies celebrated in homes of every class: dilapidated sheds and marble mansions, all were alike in their eyes. All had fallen into misery. The wailing of the forsaken, carted off into the woods to be forgotten, mixed with the sobbing of the wealthy and the remembered and the defiant. Glistening troops, uniforms stark as fresh blood, marched through the streets. The specters rode as their vanguard, ringing bells to proclaim their victory. A dismal hollow chime echoed in the ears of listeners.