Leave the alley.
Peering out into the desolate street you see a line of houses on the
opposite side. Their thatched roofs and
well trimmed yards gives you an empty feeling inside.
To the left down the street one of the houses window is open and the
curtain flutters eagerly in the light brease. To the right in the
center of the street there is a wheel barrow tipped over. Its
contents spread out across the dusty stone. You notice a quarter loaf
amongst the discarded contents. Your stomach growls.
"When did I last eat," you wonder, "Where is
everyone?"
The street and houses are void of people. You gaze goes back to the
houses. Not one of them has even the slightest trail of smoke coming
out its chimney.
Your stomach growls again.
You leave the crystal hanging loosely arround you neck and limp
cautiously out of the alley. You notice the dark stains on the
cobblestone where you we lying moments earlier. Your head still feels
faint and at you aproach the mouth of the alley you pause to lean on
the stone building to catch your breath.
