To The Grave

I had never seen the stars, not in their full glory. Lights across miles and miles of towns created a thick layer of light pollution blocking out most traces of the universe surrounding us.
Now I could look up and see every star. I flicked cigarette ash onto the roof, watching it slide down. I could hear a slight groan from down the street. I watched as a small group of rotters stumbled down the street. Everyone else was asleep. Or dead.
It'd been a month. A month since the last time I left my house. A month since anything had felt normal.