Just playing around

The dust blew in the window like air being exhaled from a dying body. It spread contagion with it. Everywhere it went-spores and molecules of death and disease. We tried not to breathe it in. No amount of duct tape or gas mask could protect us. There we sat like stool pigeons on a stoop. Just breathing in the last few measures of the life we had known. You could feel your eyes change color. You could almost put a name on the gorge rising in your throat. The hairs on your arm starting to grow at an alarming rate. The tear down your spine was the worst. The cracking and popping as the body you had known grew into the body you would have forever, whether you wanted it or not.