The rot is well set in and weeds shoot skyward, monstrous, godlike into the blue. Trees have taken over, again, and vines hang proudly through cities, homes and the ghosts of littered convenience stores.
There was information in the air they say, just floating, waiting to help you. There were no problems or misery as the information just came to you when it was needed, they called it God or Jesus or Allah or something and we were complete for a time.
But they, the people, weren’t happy with everything, and they poisoned the earth, on purpose, or by accident, no matter, no matter, as the air now reeks and we walk in circles of madness; scampering from the shadows of the past.
We have lost our souls and the further north we go the more rabid we are. Unhinged we are. Soul singed we are. I wander through green sculpted cities now and wonder, is that information still there? Was it ever there?