The end is near.

Day 459.

It has been months, years even, since this war begun. The pigeons are now the dominant species on the planet. Most of humanity is dead, this of us that live on are in hiding or taken hostage to breed. Supplies are low, 1 or 2 weeks until they are gone. I fear for my life, the bunker doors will only hold for so long. I will have to venture into the wastes to hunt, and I may not return. Tommy died due to allergies a few months ago, but I can see his body from the window. It’s… it’s not looking good for me. I have enough firepower to put a good sized dent in their forces, but they will replenish their numbers easily. I have about 2, maybe 3 hours until I leave. Goodbye.

What do you think?

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