S-Zombiefuck

Wolves howl at the moon. Why? Because they are calling the pack? Experts say yes because it seems logical. This is not true. If you ever hear them, you will understand. They weep. Mourn the loss of their comrades who fell in battle. Those who fell in the endless, secret war against those who would destroy their homes their lives their families. For what? Profit. Those who in the old days fought hand-to-jaw now fight, no destroy with fire and steel. They destroy so that they can have a comfortable chair. Or a coat. The wolves weep. Once undefeated, now knows defeat.

God's robes flapped around him as he looked over the edge and onto the street below. "Don't do it! Don't do it!" cried the security guard behind him. God said nothing, climbing onto the raised edge of the building. Five storeys below, people were beginning to take notice. "Jesus Christ! Look! "Oh my god!" "Where's my camera?" He turned and faced the security guard, who stopped walking and gazed upon the face of God. He'd been crying. "But... why? You've got so much to live for..." God gave a wan smile. "So have all of you." He spread his arms wide, closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh, falling back and off the building. *     *