You're listening to an Airwave Media podcast.

Hollywood is yours.

To unlock the secret history of Hollywood,

simply go to patreon.com slash ataboy's secret

or follow the link in the show notes of this episode.

For a moment, Audrey supposed the softness beneath her feet was snow.

The countryside was littered with rags of white that had fallen between the fire in the sky.

But this snow was warm and not white at all,

and collected not in droplets upon her yellow skin, but as black smears.

The ashes of Arnhem were inches deep and still falling,

settling with peculiar tenderness upon the sharp

shells of buildings. The city before her had become its own ghost. Feebly, she trudged towards the

softness of them, steadying herself against walls and inching ever onwards.

In the distance, the shrieking of guns began to echo.

It took no time for the sounds to reach her, for there was hardly any city left to snag itself

upon.

The first place she tried was a townhouse whose door had been left flattened in the hallway,

but which mysteriously had managed to cling on to one resilient window on the upper floor.

For long minutes, she trudged wearily from room to room,

investigating cupboards for signs of supplies,

before finally foraging through a festering refuse can in the kitchen.

The best she found here was a wooden inch of bread, blue with decay.

...