I remember after the comet came, the world was in chaos, and the people turned.
I remember when they burst through the barricades and checkpoints and couldn’t be stopped.
I remember when they bit you.
I remember the terror in your eyes.
I remember not knowing what to do.
I remember when you died.
I remember after you returned and you cornered me in our bedroom.
I remember how you were ready to tear the flesh from my bones.
I remember my escape. Of sleepless nights and unrelenting runs when my lungs were ready to explode.
I remember the car and the city on fire like a sunset in the rearview mirror.
And I remember you. On the hill. In your dress.
And I promise not to forget.
David Gane Newsletter
Join the newsletter to receive the latest updates in your inbox.