WE EXIST, THOUGH WE ARE ALREADY DEAD. WE JUST DON'T KNOW WE ARE ALREADY DEAD.

Colson Whitebread, Zone One: A Novel (New York: Doubleday, 2011) ("Looking down at them through the twisting ash, Mark Spitz shuddered. The dead streamed past the building like characters on an electronic ticker in Times Square, abstractions as impenetrable as the Quiet Storm's vehicles. He'd always peered from the skyscraper windows into the streets, seeking. Close to the ground, almost at their level, he read their inhuman scroll as an argument: I was here, I am here now, I have existed, I exist still. This is our town." Id. at 246.).