[ WP ] Describe a post apocalyptic society which stresses one aspect of life which may be hard .

The slow raspy uptake of air through my throat and into my lungs was mirrored by my footsteps on the irradiated dirt. Each breath felt like I was massaging my lungs with a cheese grader. I doubled over and slung my backpack on to the ground and wheezed, desperately gasping for air. I coughed blood into the dirt and onto my shirt. As low levels of oxygen took their toll, I reminisced on the first month, which was not quite anything like this. 
 
 At first there were four of us. Some called us brave and some called us fools.. We just wanted out. We cracked the doors on our bunker and ventured out into the overgrown forests which had consumed the area. It seemed at first like perhaps we had been raised slightly in elevation, but we paid no mind. We trekked onward, looking for other survivors who dared to venture into the outdoors.. After the first four weeks was when the pollen was really released. 
 
 Like she sensed us back on her surface, mother earth and her plants began slowly seeping out a pollen, leaving us teary-eyed and struggling to breathe. As time went by, more and more was released. We turned around, somehow found the bunker again after another two weeks but on the way... we lost two. Coughing and gurgling and spitting blood... like... like I am now. Things rapidly came back as I was still doubled over on the ground. I looked upward at the bunker and managed to pull myself up and sit against it... I thought about taking one more breath before giving into death's embrace, but instead I resisted, leaned back and went to sleep one last time.
