A Glimpse of Paradise...Shattered

I peek through the barred windows and scour the street for any signs of life...or moving death. It's such a beautiful day; the morning sun is chasing away the mist, and a small jackdaw is pecking at the earth, oblivious to the horrors that surround it. I guess he doesn't care; it isn't his war. Supplies are dangerously low, and I'm becoming less and less secure with my current safe house. Time to move on.

A tongue of flame licks the tip of my cigarette alight as I survey the road. The road that never stopped moving, that was once the highway for goods, taxis, people. It's as dead as the corpse I buried last night.

As I get ready to jump down, I see movement in the corner of my eye. Pausing, I try to focus. A Siberian Husky appears from an alley and trots down the road, nose to the ground. This dog is the most perfect specimen of the breed I have ever seen. Dog shows would stop as soon as he walked in; there would be no point to continue. His silver fur shone in the sunlight as he sat on his haunches. I clicked my fingers in the hope that such a perfect beast would bless me with a glance.

He walked on, and stuck his head into a bush. Smiling, I watched, smoke swirling in front of my eyes. The dog was pulling something; I could hear his growls of effort. His head snapped back, and I saw a hand, gripped in his mouth. He teared at the flesh, and gnawed on the bones. With a human finger in his mouth he looked in my direction, crimson blood staining his pearly white face. I grimaced, stubbing the cigarette out with my boot.

The dog was right. You have to do what you have to do, if you want to survive.