DIARY OF A DEAD MAN

The Walk: It's 5:34 am, October 31st, 2027. Tonight is Halloween, and there's a ragged chem-snow falling, as white feathers out of a busted pillow. Quiet... it falls in slowly, motion shaken out of its slip by an unseen hand. Grey toxic zigzag clouds, have us locked down, and caged in, and away from the sunlight, going on a month now. It is terrible how much you can miss the sun -- the heart can ache for its light like a lover.