It hadn't lasted long. The quiet, that is. It came and went just like the lives around the world since this all started, and I'm certain that it will come back just as they have. It always comes back, but it never lasts as long as I want it to.
I suppose it's a good thing that I'm constantly reminded of the flesh eating corpses shambling around though. I'd hate to lay down one evening with that calm sea breeze blowing my hair, the sand holding tight beneath me, and the white caps gently nudging the beach leaving creatures in its wake as it retreats back to the sea. All the while rotting flesh downwind makes its way to surprise me in my moment of rest. Hearing them groan and scream nearly every moment of the day keeps me on my toes. It reminds me that it isn't safe to relax. That no matter how long I'm living in this nightmare I'll always have to think of them.
I have to find somewhere safer to stay if I'm ever going to get some real rest. I'll never be safe, but I can only watch my back for so long before they start coming from the front. This old house seemed like a good idea when I found it, but I had dozens of them coming at me from every angle. It was either shack up here or continue running, and I'd been running for days.
It's quiet once again, and all I can think about is them.