A dreamlike vision of the apocalypse that begs to be turned into something longform. The mood of this story is haunting:

There must have been thousands or tens of thousands of people marching along the winding streets ahead and behind them, but in the thick of the crowd, all they could see was an endless mass of shoulders and calves. Now, as on the other days of the week, it was drizzling, with an occasional low rumble of thunder, followed by a faint flash of lightning; the sky seemed lazy to rouse its energies, and plodded along its marked course, more out of habit than anger.