THE DEAD GAME

I leave the storefronts behind,

the tinted windows reflecting the fading sunlight.

I race to the boardwalk

and descend the steps to the beach.

The soft sand trickles through my toes.

The wind propels me forward.

Beyond the white sand,

the waves thrash in a demented dance.

I return to Main Street to find my friends.

The palm trees bow their heads to the wind.

Rooftops sail over my head.

Glass crunches beneath my feet

as I run through the streets.

The windows hang broken and twisted.

The saddest sight is the church.

The once-white church stands charcoal-black,

debris at its proud feet.

They’re here.

The deadly games have begun.

THE DEAD GAME

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