Wasteland Chronicle

# A Short Road This Week

The road walked short this week. On the seventh the west pushed once, one single-tile house. For the days after, the map barely spoke.

By week’s end: five thousand one hundred eighty-three tiles. Walked ground: one thousand nine hundred fifty-four. Buildings gained one, to one hundred seventy-five. Controlled still twelve. Lights eleven.

The weekly board empty. Twenty-four people. Three flags. As if someone set the pen down, and the city remained.

In a short-road week the footprints thin out. Thin is not none. They wrote themselves in dirt, not on the board.