Everything feels safe when sanctuary is sublime, filling the pleasure void with sureness; drifting through the aftermath.... almost inconceivable. Recalling your life, the one before this.... this post-apocalyptic wasteland; only just approximating what used to be. Yesterday's magnum opus; dissolved, desolate, reanimated. Hunkering down in the sparseness of your own uninvited dystopia, in a collapsed world, less than nothing. No trusting anything, questioning everything; while the minutes turn to sand, and you survive to keep surviving, and deceive yourself to keep believing that everything can be the way it was. It's enough to get you through, through the ceaseless starting and stopping; but Deceit in all its elegance can't trick the Hope syndicate, so yesterday you left for the sun. And Hope became the New World Order; keeping you alive. Until it started. Again. Apocalypse protocol on cue; hiding.... until it stops, until the rare flash of quiet comes; inside the time factory in your head, unoccupied. (the quiet disappeared and the factory closed after it all went down) (But it's quiet now) The seconds, they seem numbered and blurred. A scarce luxury, this state of calm; until without forewarning, again.... it isn't; walkers.
REFLECTIONS BY THE AUTHOR: Author Notes THIS STATE OF CALM ~ D James Breaux > 118 days after the nuclear holocaust caused the zombie apocalypse. > Based on #AMCTheWalkingDead > Also see "Muldenberg County" http://www.vingle.net/posts/1468034?shsrc=v > Also see "Occurrence At Lockville" http://www.vingle.net/posts/1534673?shsrc=v