After, The End by Isaac Stancill

After, The End

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Bodies were piling up on the streets, sirens could be heard but almost never seen, people walked fast with a dark grim look to their mask covered faces. The air was contaminated, the blood soaked sheets were contaminated. There were no safe places in those times. Shots were heard on the street, no one looked. A baby cries in hunger while his desperate father begs at the soldiers’ feet, while at the hospital for some formula or milk. That night the father and the baby would lie dead. Society would follow not long after. The months that followed the great disease were long and dark even when the sun shined and birds sung happy mating sounds. The city turned in to a massive open graveyard in a matter of a year. Those who did not die fled to the relative safety of the countryside

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