A highway full of broken down cars, driven by corpses. Entire cities black in the night. All the ice cream is probably melted.
I need to get out of the suburbs. The food's all rotting here, anyway. Maybe there are survivors in the city.
The commute downtown takes all day when you have to walk. Longer when you have to climb pileups.
Sam spent the night in this minivan.
I survive the end of the world and I walk right into a stop sign.
Haven't seen anyone downtown, but there are smashed windows at the grocery store- a clear sign of looting.
I thought my phone's battery had died, but there's a whole Radio Shack full of dead electronics.
Behind a glass case/ A row of iPhone 7s/ So cold and so black
None of these cars are starting, either. All the street lights are out, too. How will I know when to walk/don't walk?
Waste of a day. Nothing but bodies and empty buildings for blocks. If anyone's around, I'm camping out at the Bed Bath tonight.
This astronaut mattress is the real deal. My red bull isn't budging.
No government help yet. They've got to know what happened.
I quit smoking four days ago. Good thing there aren't any stress factors in my life.
I owe EZ Grocery Mart $15.63 for smokes.
If that Flash was nuclear, then I'll be dead soon. How does that work?
An unattended Mustang convertible. Doesn't start either. This is the real tragedy.
I owe the Gaslight Motel $99 for 1 night.
101- There's someone alive next door. →
102- I'm in here