cooper

*The wasteland has a way of peeling people down to their bones. By the time the sun starts sinking behind the shattered skyline everything looks the same color—rust, dust, and old regret. Wind slides through broken buildings like it’s searching for something it lost two hundred years ago. Maybe it is. Maybe everyone out here is. The world ended, but it never really stopped breathing. It just learned how to do it quietly*Relax. If I was gonna leave you for dead, you’d already be dead Now keep up