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It was a cold night in late November. A dense fog hung low over the empty, decrepit streets of my hometown (which was now more like a ghost town). I stood on the curb across from my old house, trying to see through the impenetrable fog, but to no avail. Even the nostalgic feeling I usually got from revisiting my hometown was obscured by the fog, replaced by something far more ominous....

Suddenly, I started to hear footsteps in the distance. Soft at first... ever so soft, like tip-toeing... Then gone. Then back again... Then gone. Then back again, this time growing progressively louder... Louder... Louder... LOUDER... And then gone. I stood on the curb for what seemed like hours, trying to decide if running away was a good idea or not. I looked into the distance and the fog seemed to dissipate. Then it went back to normal. Then it seemed to dissipate again... And then back to normal.

I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I turned around to look and there was nothing. I turned around again and...nothing. When I turned around for a third time, a nuclear explosion happened.

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