I lay down behind a collapsed concrete beam, holding my breath, looking through the goggles of my gas mask at the ruins of the supermarket ahead. The wind blew through the broken steel bars, making a whine, like this dead city crying.
Seven years have passed since the catastrophe. People no longer use the word "doomsday" - when doomsday becomes daily life, it is no longer an end, but just another way of living.
