A letter to a stranger: Part 2

As I look out of these glassless windows of this once beautiful home, I imagine what it would have looked like, but after it being abandoned to the elements of this new world, everything seems to be grey and colourless. I sit upon one of them captains chairs, the leather worn away, staring out to the bleak, but once beautiful countryside. Recently the skies have been grey with sorrow, it's been a long time since some colour has been seen in the sky.

I had a brief happy moment, when I saw a frog, it didn't have a care in the world when I watched it trying to catch a fly with it tongue, it finally succeeded, then it caught another, then another. That's when I realised that when flies are nearby there's a shambler near. Flies are like a warning system, giving an advance warning, I moved on as did the frog, I'm guessing the animals of the world knew something was wrong, but they move away from the problem.

So sitting on this once smooth leather captains chair, I look around the room, it too was grey just like the world outside, the once colourful room had died too, just like the house, and possibly it's owners too. I find myself no longer smiling or laughing, for I have been alone for too long, the last contact with a non infect human was a police officer who had just lost his family to the undead, I try to help him, but they had over powered his wife, 2 young twin daugthers, and his mother. He screamed at me to leave him, I did as he told me to do, as a got further away in the distance, I heard a faint lone gun shot, then nothing, I don't want to think what happened to him, maybe he bit the bullet and opted for an easy way out, or just shot his gun to distract them, who knows.

I have been staying in this house for two days, I think I should move on soon, I want to find that one place in the world way it is safe, where there are no infected lurking round every corner, somewhere I can sleep peacefully, eat and drink, I want to smile again, laugh, be jolly, but only time will tell, I find myself crying, talking to myself, and not being happy, but how can you be when everywhere you look, there is death, destruction, terror, sorrow, and the colour grey.

I often dream of a colourful world that once was, with birds in the blue sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face, the cool refreshingness of summer rain, that cool breeze on my body, I hear the laughter of children, the joyful voices of people, the flowers dancing in the summer breeze, sand inbetween my toes, this is my world, but when I awake I feel cold, mournful and unhappy, I think to myself maybe that's what I dream of is my own heaven, I'm not a religious person, but everyone has a heaven of their own to dream of in times like these.

It's time for me to now leave, I have out stayed my own welcome, I must walk alone, I am heading south, maybe that's where heaven is, who knows, maybe I'll laugh and smile again, I don't know, but at this time there too much sorrow, I have left the house way I found it, but I hope you do to, so to you, the stranger reading this letter once more, I hope you find your heaven before it is too late, I'm off to find mine, I am still alive, so dear stranger, I hope you have a peaceful journey, and I bid you a fond farewell.