the aftermath

A gray sky distorts the dusty silhouette of the sun. Hazy particles swim and dart through the air as if alive, making the world look grainy and overcast. Everything is covered in a fine patina of bleached ash that looks like a poor facsimile of snow. Through the portholes of a gas mask, the firelit world seems to move in slow motion, like frames from an old movie in a bad dream. The Earth is a wasteland of ash and decay.