Martha watched the swans swim through the park. She was happy to see them return. It had been awhile since she had seen them, and they were so rare these days, any time they visited was a blessing. There had been thousands of them, once upon a time, long ago before the war. Her mother told her stories of staring out over fields covered in white, of looking up at a sky so white you could not see the sun. But no longer did these beautiful animals grace the sky. They were lucky to come around at all, the few who remained were the ones who had escaped the fires and bombs.
It was the same for all animals though. Once, the earth had been filled with animals from thousands of different species. Now, only a few dozen remained.