Desolate Unknown

War is what happens when language fails—Margaret Atwood.

I read that somewhere sometime. I do not remember it’s been ages since the war to end all wars I haven’t seen another living person in years, I haven’t seen another living creature in years.

The world is dark, destroyed buildings lay in ruins, darkness crumbling, the stench of death and ruin I go outside everyday though it depresses me in hopes of finding someone, something living. I have not even found a living insect. Not even an insect, insects survive everything how is this possible years—decades?? I do not know any more, no way to keep track of days the smog the dirt, the thickness does not even let the sun through.

Every day I walk past the ruins of the signs of the businesses of the past, dark and desolate. Walking and not seeing anything but visions of ruin and despair, this is what they were fighting for? I do not even see what was so important and I don’t understand what it was that they were fighting. I wish I could find someone to remind me, or find a reading to explain what they were fighting, but all the electronics are destroyed, everything that was built and saved on digital, electronic formats, that’s gone.. I think. I cannot access it. I remember from a book I found was it before the war, after the war? I do not know, there is no one to remind me from Philip K. Dick “It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane”. I wonder did I secretly go insane, and the world is actually normal everywhere except in my own head. I wonder this as I walk through the streets, I think these are streets, It could actually be apartment buildings or houses, there’s no way to tell as I climb through the mounds of rubble. There is no semblance there was any organized society here.

I walk my rounds and return home. I live in an underground abode, a house, my home. I managed to somehow get electricity from somewhere, I do not remember, it’s been so long since I set up my home. My home is bright and cheerful, I have plants I have set up under grow lights and this is my sole source of food. I do not remember did I grow it from seeds, was it already here, how did I come about to having a home, a source of electricity and lights. It is not important I don’t have anyone to share the information with, no one to talk to no one to care how this happened.

Life could be worse I guess, could it be worse? Would having robotic people and robotic animals instead of being alone be better or worse? I guess if they were well behaved it would be better to share and have someone to talk to, but worse if they turned into psycho killers. Well, if they were psycho killers no one would know, I would not know because if they killed me, I wouldn’t know and there wouldn’t be anyone else for me to be worried about, so maybe having psycho robots would be better.

Wow I guess I have been here too long by myself if I am thinking psycho robots are okay.

Well, let’s see what book I can read today, let me look at my bookshelf. Oh, that is how I read what I have read I have a book by Margaret Atwood and a book by Phillip K Dick and one Cormac McCarthy. 3 books, I used to have floor to ceilings of books hundreds of books, books I could read and look at any time I wanted, and they were all mine. I think, or am I thinking of the library, was it a library I was thinking about that had floor to ceilings of books and I could look at them or was it both. I hate feeling confused and unsure of what is real and what is imaginary. I do not know am I really confused?

I eat my favorite dinner, well today it is because it is what I am eating and whatever it is I’m eating is my favorite as food is extremely scarce. I am having kale and greens blended. They taste good. I wander around and get bored, so decide I’ll go to sleep. I do not know if it’s day or night. I sleep when I am tired, I sleep when I’m bored. I walk outside, I wander inside, and I sleep. Life is just not like it used to be.

The next day I get up. I call it the next day because I wake up so what else should I call it. I brush my hair. I brush my teeth, I wash my face, I get dressed. This feels so “normal” all things I did before the war, things I still do, things I did before. It fools me into thinking that life outside my home is still the same, it is not.

I wander around my home until I get bored there is nothing new in here, nothing has changed, I prepare myself for the depressive, desolate state of the world outside my home. I wander, I look nothing is different, the same buildings are crumbling, the same advertisements on the crumbling billboards, same computers, media in the streets. How can it look so much the same and so bleak day after day and I still hold onto hope that there can be something new, something different in what’s left of the world.

Maybe I should pack up and leave and see if there’s life elsewhere. If I left though and it’s worse, I might die without my safe space. I do not know. This is the first time I have had this thought. A new thought maybe I should think about moving on to a different area of what is left of the world, I can’t be the only survivor.

I continue, I walk further than I have ever dared to walk in the past. I have always worried about getting lost and not being able to find my way back. Today I am not too worried if I don’t find my way back. Who is to care if I don’t find my way back, no one.

I continue, I walk for hours and hours, I think. It feels that way as my legs get heavy and I am really thirsty. I do not know where to get water. I continue, because there has to be something else besides me. I start to yell, why I had not I thought to yell before!!

I walk and yell “hello, Hello HELLO!” Is that right should I be yelling something different. It is not like I’ve lived though the end of the world before or read a handbook on how to survive the end of the world. Maybe I should have. I am sure someone has written a book on how to survive the end of the world. Maybe I have read a book on the end of the world let me think, no I do not think I have. Next time around before the world ends, I am going to read the book on how to survive when the world ends.

I guess I will have to write it since it looks like I’m the only one who survived.

I turn around and walk back, wait why am I turning around, I think that is my rubble over there on the next block (is It a block, who knows, I’m calling it the next block and since it’s only me no one can argue).

I’m not as far away as I thought. So, I walk back inside and take a long drink of water. And another long drink of water. As I turn on the water the second time the water makes a funny “mew” noise. Hmm. I never noticed the pipes making that noise before. I turned the water off and heard “mew”. Weird. Now my noises in my head sound real. I drink my second glass of water and walk around my house. “mew”, “mew”. I must be tired. I am going to lay down. “Mew, mew”. Okay this is getting weird.

Searching for the source of the weird noise. I start to follow the water pipe, I reach the area where the pipe reaches out of my home and it’s there, I hear “Mew, Mew” the loudest.

I take a fork and gently pry open the wall around the pipe. The plaster or whatever the wall is made of starts to give away. The sounds of the “mew, mew” gets louder and louder. I get the wall open enough to see 2 eyes staring back at me. “Great, robotic animals”. So, I put down my fork and walk away. Just what I need a psychotic robotic animal to kill me in my sleep. So, I go to the bathroom leaving the door open because why would I close the door I am by myself. As I am sitting there this ball of fur walks into the bathroom, I am sure to murder me “mew, mew”. It is the size of my hand all fur and as orange as the sun. Yep, this is it, this is how I go. Murder mittens is here to kill me. “Mew, mew” says the strange creature. Honestly what is this thing, why did it hang out on my pipes and come through my wall and where has it been the last 100 years of my life (or 10 or however long it has been, I do not know, do you?).

Murder mittens as I’m calling the murderous creature follows me to the couch to lay down and lays on my chest, yes, it’s going to smother me in my sleep. It does not seem heavy enough to smother me and it is smaller than my hand. I am not sure how it is going to kill me, but I do know this is the end. I lay there awaiting my doom. It does not happen, but the murderous creature makes a noise “purrrr purrrr”. Oh, it must be revving up it motor before it does me in. I am getting hungry and it apparently needs to charge so I get up.

I make my favorite meal for dinner, spinach and brussels sprouts, turns out “murder mittens” likes them too. Hmmm. I would have thought it would have preferred the blood of its victims. Okay whatever.

So murder mittens follows me around for the rest of the evening and then I go to bed and so does murder mittens. Something so murderous is kind of cute. I wonder what it is.

Murder mittens is wandering the bed looking for the best way to kill me I am sure, that is when I notice there’s a heart shaped locket around its neck. I touched the locket. The creature stopped and walked closer to me. I opened the locket, inside was inscribed “war was always here”- Cormac McCarthy.

“War was always here”. Is that saying this strange creature was always living in my pipes and War is that murder mittens real name or is it saying that war was always happening, and we were destined to end ourselves. That’s a mystery for another day, assuming I make it to another day that is creature that weights about 2 pounds does not take me out in my sleep. If it does it’s okay. If it does not maybe I will talk to it and find out what it knows about the world beyond what I have seen.