Write about: the siren.
Max woke me up just in time to catch the final five minutes of the hockey game this morning. Thankfully the only tense moments involved waiting for the online stream to load, as Canada was up 3-0 and they were rarely challenged during the small portion of the game we watched.
That was a pretty dominant defensive performance, giving up only three goals over six games and finishing things off with back to back shutouts. Not nearly as dramatic as their gold medal game in Vancouver, but at that time of the morning I will not complain about that.
The siren which sits atop the towering pole in the main square is silent now. Only echoes linger, but they too will be gone soon. A chilling wind blows from the north, bringing with it hints of the winter that is drawing steadily closer.
It is almost enough to clear the stench away from this town.
I walk the streets, utterly alone. Even the strays that once pestered passersby are gone. If I had more sense I would join them - those that are still alive, that is. Though keeping company with those that were taken in the first attack may be a better choice than to be here, breathing this air.
Those savages will return, of that I am certain. Still I roam through my town, searching. The ticking clock in the back of my head is growing louder and more menacing, but I cannot leave yet. If there is a heartbeat more to spent here then I must spend it.
Though my chances of success fade with every step I take, I cannot leave without finding her first.