Eternal Summer

20220717 - Digital Brass Mountains

New Voices From The Past

Under the ashen sky, where the sun's feeble rays could barely penetrate the smothering veil of despair, I found myself staggering through the lifeless ruins of what once was our world. A leaden weight pressed upon my chest, a cold reminder of the unbearable absence that now haunted my existence.

The earth beneath my feet lay poisoned and scarred, a grotesque testament to the unfathomable devastation wrought by the nuclear tempest. Shattered glass and twisted metal littered the landscape like the bones of a decaying leviathan, the disfigured remains of a civilization that had been extinguished in an instant.

My every step was a pilgrimage through the sepulcre of memories, each one an agonizing reminder of the love and laughter that had once filled our home but now resonated only as echoes of the past. The wind whispered through the skeletal remains of buildings, carrying with it the disembodied cries of my wife and child, their presence forever entwined with the desolation that surrounded me.

The oppressive silence that shrouded the city was a palpable presence, a suffocating cloak of emptiness that weighed heavily upon my soul. Only the faint, mournful cry of a distant siren pierced the stillness, its dirge-like lament a haunting refrain that echoed the grief that lay festering within my heart.

In this bleak and barren wasteland, where the boundary between reality and nightmare had dissolved into a morass of sorrow, I found myself grappling with the frayed edges of my sanity. The unbearable weight of loss threatened to drag me into the abyss, a yawning chasm of darkness that yawned before me like a ravenous beast.

And yet, in the depths of my despair, I clung to the faintest flicker of hope. A fragile ember that refused to be extinguished, fueled by the stubborn defiance that perhaps, amidst the ruins of our shattered lives, some vestige of meaning might still be found. For in the face of such abject desolation, I had no choice but to cling to this tenuous thread of resilience, my final, desperate act of defiance against the merciless void that sought to consume us all.

Yesterlife

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