We’re alive, but not living, not really. We’re stuck in some endless play and can’t find our way from the stage.
post apocalyptic
Random Snippet February 2021
When he woke in the woods in the dark and cold of night, he’d reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him.
Sentry (Revised)
A small, unacknowledged, part of your heart despises the serenity, welcomes its transience, eagerly awaits the coming chaos. Before the war, in the world-that-was, you despised the cold spread of adrenaline. Now you crave the exhilaration and terror of combat, the struggle to eke out one more moment of existence.
Sentry (Original)
You perch on the side of an overturned Coles truck, carefully scanning the crumbling homes and weed-choked footpaths for any sign of movement. The air is oppressively still, the silence palpable. Almost painful. Your ears strain for any hint of life. You desire movement and you dread it.
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
Opening Sentence:When he woke in the woods in the dark and the cold of the night he’d reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him. Synopsis:A father and son walk alone through burned America. Nothing moves in the ravaged… Read More ›
