Newspaper litters the streets, spread out all around to cover the filth and decay like a grisly white carpet.The few words that are still legible on the pages describe a paradise society, a crumbling world. The headlines scream of violence and death, of perfection and life. Ash fills the sky weather its from the volcano eruptions or people burning remains undetermined. Blame, guilt or rage is worn like masks by the few that still wander these forgotten streets and alleyways. They stumble, either from drink or insanity, it doesn't matter either way. With sunken eyes each looks at the other as if they don’t even exist, in their own little worlds they probably don’t. Ash blankets the buildings, outlined in the soot are men, women, and children. It’s hard to believe that this all started with me.