First word of sentence must be the last word of the preceding sentence.
He walked up the stairs. Stairs that wound up the tower facing the West.
The West spread out below him as he exited the tower. Towers of rock, flat buttes and broad expanses of sun-bleached sand stretched to the horizon. Horizons can deceive, however.
However he tried, he could not see through the mirage, though he knew it was there. There should have been a city out there – steel beams, shining buildings, flying machines. Machines to take care of all the day-to-day annoyances of life. Life had found a way to become pleasant, simple, uncomplicated, but that peace could not last long.
Long, dark clouds gathered overhead. Overhead, the storm gathered. Gathered strength and lightning and rumbled toward the city.
The city would fall.