Free Land
You have probably already heard the story by now. Writing this now seems almost anti-climatic, but I will try to record the events as factually as I can remember. You are now probably in your homes, trying to live by the hour, hoping that you won't be exposed. Sitting there with your meager rations and your survival manuals, hoping that someone won't come knocking at your door. I hope the best for you, but I can't live that way. I had to get out, take the chance, and do something. The news reports will probably drone on for the next two years about possible causes or possible cures. They will continue to parade their experts across the stage in the hopes that you'll buy their brand of snake oil. What ever, you have it, not me, I'm on the road, taking my chances as I head towards the desolate regions, where the air is cleaner and the by now the land is free.
Twenty-four hours ago, the news was new. I knew it was coming, could see it on the wind. The birds started dying off quickly, I knew what it was, and I grabbed my bowie knife and few supplies I had packed away and hit the street. In a few short hours I knew the news was going to get bad. It did, the news got real bad real fast. Then the masses began running to the stores, who having heard the news had closed their doors, only letting in those that had cash. Because cash was going to help them. Whatever I don't care because I left the city about three hours before the news hit the airwaves.
blah blah blah
moving on... I might revisit this sometime, but for now I will try to write something darker in style.
This will be posted to my web log, as miscellaneous bull-shirt, to be revisited when it seems like it is more appropriate.
-James-
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