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From the Microcosmicon, 16:

They streamed down the street, groaning like a storm-bearing wind, their bodies emaciated, covered in sores.
Screams. They grabbed hold of a girl. In another moment, her head was cracked open, her brains devoured.

I watched from my balcony, horror sliding down the surface of my mind, without living much of an impression.
Then I retreated into my kitchen, put out the cigarette, approached the fridge and opened it. Leftovers from my last meal greeted me, his brain marinated with ricotta cheese.

I heard them approach my driveway.
Excitement enlivened me. I knew the right crowd would swing by, eventually.

MQS