The Lilacs of April

After surviving my first winter of twenty-below-zero weather in the mountains of Arcadia, it was the lilacs of April that eased my sorrow. A wild and over-grown stand grew along the fence of an old miners cabin. Built on a hill top in the nineteen twenties, it was the cheapest property in town at the time.
Spring was slow in arriving. My will to stay alive grew as I watched the many months of snow and ice melt day-by-day. A young neighbor said the town reminded her of the movie, "Dawn of the Dead". Maybe she was correct and we were the only two people not among the living dead. I think my friend was sent to help me fight the gloom-and-doom of apathy with her youthful vitality, caring nature, and love of life.
Two years later I was still holding on. I lost the cabin and moved to a cheap trailer park where I was the only resident. With not much to do other than seek truth and knowledge, the library became my home-away-from-home. There I met a most unusual teacher clothed in velvet lilac, the captain of a ship. I fought with all that was in me to stay alive, each day looking for some small thing to be happy about, needing only the smallest of hope to hold on to. I know somebody has already written, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." and yet it was a time, when my world stood still.
What happened to me that spring is the stuff science fiction horror stories are made of. Now my focus is to keep what sanity that was left to me, and to be grateful for my strength of character to survive in this world. And yes, I will always love, the Lilacs of April.