The Group sat, as they always did, huddled around the fire on pieces of debris that had become accustomed to being chairs. The fire was foul smelling, but so were they, and so was everything else. Besides, it was warm, and therefore more than worth it.

          The ash of the fire found itself well at home in the cold air, which was frigid and heavy with stumbling particle and hanging smog. You couldn’t see more than three yards in front of you in any direction, not that you would want to. All there was to see was the skeleton of what was. The Group sat around together like maggots, eating and using and holding onto whatever bits of flesh still clung the dying world. All day everyday they stared into the fire and each other’s faces, and they couldn’t decide which hurt their eyes more.

          The Group numbered five, each dirty, rank and tattered in their own way and also in common. The women numbered two, and the men three. On one makeshift bench sat a glacial old woman in a woolen shawl, with grey hair pulled into a tangled bun on her head and a small pinched mouth. At her feet was a threadbare doll. Next to her was the other woman, a wiry thing in a green puffer coat. She had an elastic face that appeared permanently annoyed, as she likely was. In her mouth was an unlit cigarette.

          Sitting with noticeable space between him and the woman on his right and the men on his left was a bearded man in a thick and grimy acrylic cardigan. He looked like the type who would smoke a pipe, if there were any more pipes for him to smoke. His face was creased lightly with age and heavily with irritability.

          The long piece of pipe served as a seat to the last two men. The shorter of them was significantly more scarred and bandaged then the rest of the group, which was saying something. He had extremely choppy hair and a weary, bony face. He wore sunglasses with only a single, cracked lens, and a vest over a sweater that was missing half a sleeve. Sitting rather close to him was a very thin man in a blue suit that may have fit well at some point. He had a slack, gaunt face with vacant eyes, and a book clutched tightly to his chest.

         The woman in the green puffer clicked her tongue, and the man with the beard let out a small sigh. The man in the sunglasses pricked up his ear and turned his head sharply towards the distance.