- Vol. 05
- Chapter 06
After the Big Storm
People walk on tip-toes after the electrical storm enveloped this city built on volcanoes in rose-colored smoke.
A man who’s not from the city climbs a high concrete spire and stands with rounded shoulders, watching the entrance road –
No lights, no cars, no one sane seeks entry. Only old skyscrapers breathe this kind of toxic air. Their bony fingers reach through the dust; claw the sky’s eyes.
Sometimes he tells the lookie loos that he’s searching for his lost dog, sometimes, his wife, sometimes, his lost life.