Rain, Rain. Go Away.

Day 219 since nuclear fallout. Diary entry number 159. Time 6:42 AM. Temperature 32 degrees Fahrenheit.

From the depths of hell, these rains pour. My makeshift shelter is the only thing between me, and drowning in my own self pity.

There is a God, and he hates me.

My life is a dead body being dragged through broken glass.

I am the veins being sliced open.

My heart is the blood that flows out.

How can one live when he knows he is going to die?

He doesn’t…

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