User:Lowercasewriter

When a man loses his priceless vynil collection throwing every disc to a zombie old woman who keeps biting with her fake teeth at the air, something breaks inside. Especially if she used to make the best cookies in the hood and loved The Who.

Hiding for days in groceries' storage area, this man thought the screams, explosions and alarms outside were the worst thing he'd ever hear. Until the silence came. And only the sounds of tired rotten feet when he applied his ear to the doors showed how time went by.

When he was brave enough to go outside and go back to his building, only smoke was there to welcome him. All he had, his books, his photographs, his music was gone.

Now things have changed. And whoever isn't mad by now is just another tired survivor in a land of dirt and confussion. Or a walking dead wearing the same old clothes, forever.

Although sometimes, just sometimes, some ray of light enters the safehouse and Jimi Hendrix is on his iPod ... while his head lays on a bag full of books.

Eat that, zeddies.

Under the Microscope

	Basque
	This user is Basque.