INFECTION

The sky above the city was the colour of skin,
drained of blood. 
Bent street lights and buckled railings wept molten metal into scorched and fractured concrete, creating a mosaic of silver trees in darkest night. 
Ash fell like snow and formed drifts in the gutter.
And the bodies, So many bodies
Charred, Rotten and Infected. 
Piled in doorways, caught on broken glass crawling through windows, or just face down on the road encircled by their own blood. 
The smell, oh that smell of decaying jaundice yellowed flesh is enough to turn the strongest of stomachs. You could literally smell that stench drifting mournfully in the breeze for miles.