Post by Michelle O.bama on May 10, 2009 15:13:56 GMT -5
The heap of rubble piled on top of Michelle makes deep scraping and shifting sounds. Small and medium sized bits of concrete tumble down it into the ill-maintained road, some thunking into old cars that haven't stirred since early in the outbreaks, years ago.
A loose wall of sheet rock and steel girders rises, then falls away, sliding down the real wall beneath it that is slowly righting itself, crumbs shaken from a piece of toast. Michelle pushes the wall completely over, it crushes a hitherto untouched Volkswagen beetle, and she brushes her hair out of her face and glares silently at The Elbow Room from across the street.
She cross quickly, un-holstering her Glock .45 again.
A loose wall of sheet rock and steel girders rises, then falls away, sliding down the real wall beneath it that is slowly righting itself, crumbs shaken from a piece of toast. Michelle pushes the wall completely over, it crushes a hitherto untouched Volkswagen beetle, and she brushes her hair out of her face and glares silently at The Elbow Room from across the street.
She cross quickly, un-holstering her Glock .45 again.