Today I saw one rotter. Just one. In a flower field, for goodness' sake. I don't know how it got there or why it was there or why it didn't try to hurt me and just stared at me instead, eyes blank. It seemed to have recently turned, and something made me pause before I attempted to kill it. It was clutching a flower in its hand, slowly tugging off the petals as it watched me, as if it still had a shred of humanity left. It wasn't savage and starving and terrible, like all the others.
When I kicked it in the face, it fell heavily, like they always do. It fell and just stared upwards. It made no attempt to eat me. It looked at the sky with its dead eyes, its splayed-out arm with fingers still clutching the flowers, and as I stared at it I felt a shred of guilt beginning to eat at me. For the first time, I felt bad for killing a rotter, and I don't know why. Things aren't going to get any better. This is the way it is now. If there was a cure, it would have been found by now. There's no way those rotters are going to change.
And there's no way I'm going to change.
I really really really like this
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