This is a short one, but I was short on time this week. Sometimes inspiration comes from the strangest places.
Today's prompt is:
It happened in the space of one night. Total destruction. Millions of residents had lived in the city. All were dead now. Or almost all. Blue crawled out of the basement where she had spent the last ten days. It was the thirst that drove her out. She was past hungry. The hollowness in her belly was just a background ache by the fifth day. She drank from a puddle for three days, but the hot, dry wind that followed the destruction filled it in with the ever-present dust. The gloom of the impending nuclear winter made noon look like dusk. She rolled herself in the dust for camouflage and scuttled across the street toward the subway stairs. Halfway across, she heard the screech designed to freeze her with fear. She wasn't some scurrying rodent, though, so she didn't freeze. Instead, she darted left and felt the beat of the owl's wings as they stirred dust into the air. Another screech signaled the raptor's frustration as Blue ducked down the stairs. Her comfy life in an air-conditioned apartment never could have prepared her for this new existence. But she was a predator herself, and her instincts had kept her alive so far. So, when the subway rat poked its head out if its hole, Blue's claws pinned it to the cement floor. With blood staining her white fur, Blue looked up from her meal, licked her lips, and her cat brain realized she would live another day