I followed the floating puffs of reefer smoke for a half mile.
I walked up to the sheer abyss drop where the overpass had fallen. Some kinda society is forming around the ruins below.
The local map changed over night.
Garden filled with the fruity scents of intoxicating plants. The wind blew up her dress for a brief glance as nothing underneath.
I found an ancient ceremonial clay figure in the field. A Goddess.
As a boy I would follow along barbed wire fences plucking the strings like a dull rusted harp. Sometimes I would find a plate with a piece of cake, or perhaps some donuts on it. I would eat these surprise treats under the afternoon trees. I never found out where they came from. '
The people who were here before could save a breeze in clay jars. You break the jar and for a few seconds the breeze would blow out with the scented wind of a former age.