The last time you made contact with a living thing was over two weeks ago. An earthworm was splayed out, almost dried out of life on the ash-covered ground, wiggling once—its last.

Kuala Lumpur is now stripped down to being exactly that, mud. Earth drowned in what's left of the dark grey thunderstorm that hit the night before.

You're walking int the middle of the open road, littered left and right with burnt metal and oil. Ahead of you, nothing but yellow dust.

Just when your knees were about to give out from days of walking, running, limping, chasing the remnants of the city, you see from amidst the fog, a movement. Coming perfectly into view, a truck drags its limp tyres and tangles its loose bits.

A familiar tune suddenly fills the bare and flat atmosphere,
'mat kool, mat kool, kawanku
mari kita ikut, mat kool,
main, main, selalu
syoknya, syoknya ada mat kool'