So I wrote a creepy short story for my school project, I would like you to read it and give me your opinion please! The acrobatic white flakes coated the ground like snow; except it wasn't cold and it didn't melt. The flakes were the ashes of the smoldering remains of my city. "The Mighty one" that's what we called the bomb that caused all this, that wiped us out. Me? I managed to get into a bomb shelter. I had almost no idea where I was going, this land seemed foreign to me now... And so have the people, I saw some yesterday, and their eyes were all red, fighting each other, they had seemed to become feral I was walking the streets one day, scrapping for food in an alley, a refrigerator laid there with a skeleton inside "poor guy" I mumbled. I turned to walk out, when suddenly, some red eyes caught me. The next thing I knew, I was running, trying to jump the fence in the alley. "My gun!" I thought. I pulled out an old detective .38 special. I pulled the hammer back and fired. The feral man grabbed his leg, and continued running, I shot him again and again... It was hopeless. The man followed by T.S. Elliot's poem and did not go out with a bang, but a Wimper This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a wimper -T.S. Elliot