A plaque has spread through where I live. It doesn't kill you right away but it changes you at first. Your skin becomes sensitive to light, before slowly flaking away. Those infect are shunned from society, and because so many have been infected, cities have become ghost towns with only the infected scurrying around, wrapped in rags to hide the sunlight from their skin. I once lived in one of these great cities, but I left.

There was a last refuge north of one of the cities, the one I moved from. It was set in an expansive canyon. I would have said cave because there are some dark places, but there is light everywhere. The canyon itself is very dry, accept for a small stream running through it. The walls on the sides curve somewhat to form a shelf of protection from the elements. Even so, structures are crudely attached to the walls of the canyon, but they look like they've withstood many years. A large man greets me and says I am welcome in sanctuary here. I wander around, admiring the sturdiness of the framework structures, when I come across a woman and a little girl. Then it hits me- this place is sanctuary but it's rather empty. There is only the tall man and myself, and this woman and child. I begin a conversation with the woman but I can't remember the subject. I watch the little girl let go of her mother's hand and wanders near a cave that is shrouded with dirty red cloth. A bandaged hand reaches out and pats the girl on the head. Suddenly, from the cave, a baritone chorus begins to sing a long and slow song. 'Song' doesn't really do it justice. The music was moving, slow but emotional. The words are unintelligible but nonetheless beautiful.

Suddenly I'm no longer in that place. Instead, I'm out in the country where houses are spanned by quite a few yards from each other. I'm walking home at a quick pace after visiting a neighbor for a cup of flour. Why a cup of flour? I do not know. The wind is howling as I struggle to keep the flour in the cup without having it blow away. The wind is fierce and I see trees swaying in the wind. It begins to snow with a vengeance. Suddenly I hear a loud tearing noise and I look behind me: The roof of another neighbor has been completely torn off. It blows away and slides along the icy-snowy ground. Feeling and urge to save anyone who might be hurt, I run back to their house only to find that it's empty. In fact, the walls are stripped with just a sink and fridge left in the kitchen. The house quickly deteriorates and the outer walls themselves are stripped apart by the wind. I see a patio chair sliding in the wind inside the house. I determine that no one was in the house and thus I could run back to my house where it's safe. The wind is still fierce and I notice that my cup of flour is halfway gone. I thought to myself, "Why am I bothering with this cup of flour. I need to get to safety!" I dump the flour and run back to my house. However, before I get there, I wake up.