The buildings stand like silent sentinels, weathered by countless storms yet still enduring. Their windows are dark, empty sockets that gaze upon a lonely street. A single crow takes flight from a nearby rooftop, cawing mournfully into the dusty air.
A rusted bicycle lies on its side, long forgotten. A discarded newspaper flutters in the breeze, a date from a lost era printed on its withered pages. The street is deserted, yet something stirs just out of sight. A shadow moves fleetingly past a broken window.
The air is stagnant, heavy with silence. The watchful structures loom over the vacant shells of cars, once filled with life and now lifeless. Dark clouds approach on the horizon, promising a cleansing rain. Thunder rumbles in the distance like the stirring of a giant, long dormant.
A lone figure walks into view, boots scuffing the abandoned pavement. A traveler in a timeless land, picking their way through the remains of a world that once was. They stop to survey the silent street,
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