by Uncola for TheBurningPlatform.com
Jack Climber sat on his kitchen floor and surveyed the wreckage. Closing his eyes he could feel a breeze swirl around his head that felt like a caress on his face. He figured he was feeling the breeze because the evil bastards who just left must have neglected to shut his front door.
He slowly, and very awkwardly, lifted his broken body up off the floor using the kitchen counter to support his weight. Upon surveying the wreckage of what used to be his happy home, he limped over to the front door and looked outside. His once well-manicured lawn now was overgrown with weeds and littered like a garbage dump. There was his mattress laying over his front sidewalk, wet and rotting along with some old clothes that looked to be his neighbor’s and even a small safe rusting in the driveway, its contents vacated long ago.