A Piece of Wood - Ray Bradbury
Out there even now - he didn't have to look, no one had to tell him - the hangars were dusting down in soft red rust, and the airplanes were blowing away on a brown rust wind into nothingness, and the tanks were sinking, sinking slowly into the hot asphalt roads, like dinosaurs... sinking into primordial tar pits. Trucks were blowing away into ochre puffs of smoke, their drivers dumped by the road, with only the tires left running on the highways.
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