It's too damned quiet | ||
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It's been almost 3 months since she's seen anyone of any real importance and a month ago, Twisted was utterly deserted. She had wandered around randomly exploring and lightly looting most of the area. Night's were spent at the dock, staring over the water; Day's spent decorating the vacant city walls. The images were always different, from her version of normal to darker more violent scenes, all depending on how much sleep she'd had that week. Granted, she only slept when her body forcibly shut her down and that was almost anywhere she happened to fall. Not nearly enough had it been in a proper bed. She had become a Vagrant while alone and more then once she found herself screaming at the sky at the edge of the Wastelands; rarely going further then the middle storm and speaking of things she never understood. That stopped only a week ago. She woke up one morning and after crawling back into town to find something to sate her hunger only to find that things felt different. There was life again. No, the general population had yet to come back, but color had started to seep back into the picture. The grass was somehow greener and the crap gray of the sidewalk, well, that hadn't changed. But it felt different. Since then she had taken to watching the roads, waiting to see if it all came back. "So, here we are, again." | |
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