The woods
Dawn Jhonson. February 15th Through the days go by, I am asking my self if someone will ever come back. There is no food, almost there is not water, I'm alone. The corpses of everyone lay dawn on the backyard. It's a madness, every nigth I fall sleep with an axe in my hands. What do I do if they wake up? Will I be able to listen the way they putrefieds bodies crawling until the door?