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?