Walking down the main street, feels like months since my last hint of civilization. I'm tired and its getting late. I am not alone here, the hairs on the back of my neck make me sure of it. If the citizens are still here, they wouldn't be what I would call, living. I need to find shelter and supplies soon before sunset if I'm going to make it till morning. Listen to myself, it doesn't matter, I’m dead anyway.
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