The smell of a morgue hangs over the village. All the people are sealed inside their boxes. Drizzle falls, washing away the dust that has been building up for weeks.
The stores that are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week are dark. No coffee shops are open. Milk and bread can only be had on the black market.
As drivers go out looking for an open store they don’t pay attention to the road. Crashes result. Sirens abound. Another day in the village.
