The Storm

The sun rose slowly into the bruised sky, turning the clouds varying shades of pink and orange. light reflected off shattered glass as if the streets were lined with glittering jewels. Jewels which would be worthless in those empty streets.
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of a nearby tree, and sent litter fluttering down the road. Various flyers, assorted rubbish and discared money covered the ground everywhere, but nobody came to clear the streets, there was nobody to complain.
The stench of decay hung in the air like a mist wherever you stood, and smoke drifted from smouldering piles of ash. The crumbling frames of vehicles and abandoned buildings lay everywhere.
The emptiness of this city was obvious, but even more astounding was the silence. Silence. Not even the cheerful song of a bird in the distance; only the trees groaning in the heedless winds.
This was the silence that followed a storm. A storm that followed a secret. A secret that caused an end.