Dead Red

I die in a rather mundane fashion and find myself in hell. After a couple of days of exploring the main high street and catching up with old friends, I decide it would be a good idea to send a postcard to the remainder of my living loved ones on Earth. Unable to pick out a single post box against the bright red walls, I begin to realise just how thorough the inventors have been in making sure my time in hell is as unpleasant as possible.