walking-bananas

PROJECT ZERO He ran. And then he still ran. Breathless, he stole through whatever street corner appeared in front of his line of sight, relentlessly putting one foot in front of the other, pressing onward. Every corner, every street seemed to be the same in its cold hard grayness, cemented into place by months of construction and years of planning. The overcast air hid the sun from his sight and kept the temperature below normal. Usually, on a day in the beginning of spring, the clouds didn't haunt him everywhere he went. At best, they provided cover. The planes couldn’t possibly see him through the thickness of the vaporized water in