Walking in LA...

Georgana adjusted her pack as she walked in the direction she hoped would lead to the only water source within a 50 mile radius… at least, according to her half moth eaten map. It was missing some chunks, but still served her purposes most of the time. Georganas’ shoulders were strong but not yet accustomed to the pressure and roughness of the straps. She wistfully remembered a time when her shoulders were free to feel the sun and the wind instead of the sweat and accumulated dirt between her skin and the pack, which held all that she owned. Shaking off the memories of a sweeter time with the reminder that she needed all her senses alert in this new world, she made a fist with her hand and peered through the tiny hole made between the curl of her fingers and her palm. Her self-made tiny telescope gave her a clearer view of the horizon. She scanned left to right, a habit she had acquired to watch for dangers. If she spotted people or animals far enough off, she had a chance of dropping to the ground to hide before they saw her. In the scrub brush and scattered rocks, she could still make herself scarce… even in the flat, desert terrain of what used to be Los Angeles.

While she had grown accustomed to making choices based on survival, not too long-ago life was very different. The change happened so fast. One moment, she was planning a life full of travel and dreaming of all that she would accomplish, and the next the internet was taken out worldwide by an errant asteroid. In a flash, everything she had built her life on was simply… gone. Her millions of followers on Instagram, which afforded her the ability to sell online courses and promote her books and speaking events, just… went…POOF. Combined with the deadly virus outbreak that caused people to avoid eachother, literally, like the plague, modern life as she knew it was forever altered. The domino effect would be unlike anything that anyone could have predicted. With the loss of all forms of satellite communications, chaos erupted and only those who were able to retreat and had already gotten the vaccine for the virus would survive.

Georgana was one of the lucky ones. For over a year she hid in her parents’ basement, surviving on stores of food and with the help of all the gear her doomsday prepper father had amassed over the years. They had both succumbed to the virus before the vaccine was widely available, leaving her alone with an abundance of supplies.

By the time she emerged, ¾ of the worlds’ population had perished and nature was already beginning to reclaim the land. Her stockpile depleted, she had no choice but to leave her once feathered nest and learn how to make it in this desolate new world.

Licking her once plump lips, collagen fillers long disappeared, she scanned the horizon for dangers. This action necessitated that she squint one eye, something she would have never done in her past life for fear of the premature aging it would cause. Now she barely thought about her appearance at all. Breathing a little easier upon seeing no living things, she was nearly finished with her sweep, when there was a flash of light. Blinded, she squeezed both eyes shut for a moment, then looked again. Using the other eye this time. Sure enough, there was another glint of flashing golden light.

She swallowed a flash of fear and reminded herself that most of the items in her pack, those that helped her to survive, she found by chance. What could that flash of light be? Some kind of tool? Maybe even a vehicle? Or just a trick of the light? She had to take the risk.

Sighing, Georgana changed her course slightly and headed in the direction of the light that beckoned. For a moment, an old mental muscle flexed from her old life. Words of inspiration flowed through her mind. Something along the lines of triumph through adversity and the importance of feeling the fear and doing it anyway. She felt a twinge of sadness that there would be nowhere to share this story, whatever it turned out to be. There would be no audience to frame the experience for to inspire or uplift them, or to sell a product. She would have to swallow her words and live for herself instead.

She trudged along, grateful for the athletic shoes she had found in a broken-down car a month ago, though they were a little too big. The sun moved across the sky as she walked. Every once in a while, she would look through her curled up hand again in order to ensure she was still on target. She didn’t seem to be getting much closer and she began to worry that the shifting position of the sun would cause the object to be lost from her sight all together. Ignoring her now burning throat and grateful for all the running she did for that Nike sponsorship just a handful of years prior, she picked up her pace.

She could now see it was a small tree that held this mysterious object. Calming a bit, knowing she now had a marker not attached to the suns’ light, she took a moment to stop and recharge. In her pack she still had a half bottle of water, some 2 years expired Cliff bars and a few treasured bags of already cooked quinoa. All treasures from a now derelict whole foods dumpster. She took two swallows of the water, careful not to lose a drop, and downed one of the Cliff bars. Anxious to discover what treasure lay ahead, she hauled the pack back up to her dirt covered and sunburnt back and carried on. Her determination was tied to need rather than want these days, and she found that her will was stronger for it.

At long last she neared the tree, just as the sun was about to drop below the horizon. The sunset was spectacular, and she wished she could take a photo. She wondered if that desire would ever fully go away and if she would someday get just as much pleasure out of beauty for beauties sake, even if she couldn’t share it on social media.

The little tree stood out from the low scrub brush and tumble weeds, but only just a little. Standing at the base of it now, her legs scratched from having to climb through the prickly brush to get to it, she squinted up to scan its branches. Seeing nothing at first but the usual trash that tended to accumulate, she was about to give up, when again she saw a little flash of light in the dying rays of the sun.

High up in the small tree she could see something hanging, blowing slightly in the breeze. To reach it, she had to half scramble, half jump up the small trunk. Much of her grace seemed to have vanished along with Instagram. Finally, she was able to grab it, half the dry branch breaking and littering her upturned face with debris as it came down. She closed her eyes to the onslaught, even as she felt her hand close around warm metal.

With her prize safely in her grip, she rubbed her eyes then opened them carefully to see what it was she had gathered. In her hand was a small, golden, heart shaped locket… still on a matching chain. The first thing she felt was massive disappointment. Here she had risked running out of water and exhausting herself, hoping to find something useful. Instead, it was this useless relic of a frivolous past. ARRGH.

Sighing, she used her once prized fingernails, now cracked and dirty, to pry open the locket. Inside, she saw something that took her breath away. The images that stood out were so out of context with her current lived experience, yet at one time would have sent her through the moon with joy, that for a moment she stood with mouth agape in a strange limbo of existential identity crisis. There, weather-worn but still identifiable, was the undeniable face of none other than Kim Kardashian. And not one of her photo-shopped press photos, but an almost ordinary looking photo of Kim with two of her children. On the other side, just as casual of a photo, was Kanye West with the other two kids.

Her breath coming faster now, Georgana closed the locket with care and turned it over. Using some of the precious moisture from her mouth, she rubbed the dirt off the back of the locket. There, in a font that was common in the trends of old, etched boldly was the message; “for Kim, with love. ~ Kanye” and underneath that in smaller lettering, “TIFFANY & CO”.

Just like that, her disappointment turned to wonder. Somehow, this treasure, though completely useless now, had been dropped from the sky as if just for her. In a time when anything that couldn’t be eaten, drunk or made to keep you warm or safe was seen simply as trash, this find was somehow even more precious.

Georgana held the locket in both hands now, close to her fast-beating heart, as tears coursed down her cheeks leaving little clean lines in the dirt as they traveled towards her chin. Kim Kardashian was the first person who showed that one could find success just in being themselves, loudly enough for people to hear. In short, Kim had been Georanas greatest inspiration.

Now, in this time when she was weary more than inspired and wouldn’t dream of wanting to selfie her current “look”, she was just as hit with fan girl like enthusiasm, knowing she held in her hands something that was once worn and treasured by her greatest hero. How it came to be hanging in this tree was an unsolvable mystery.

The sun fully set now, Georgana opened the clasp with shaking fingers and placed the locket around her neck. The locket matched her in more ways than one. They were both, the girl and the locket, forged in a time of glamour and set adrift in a world as unfamiliar in its’ priorities as some distant planet in another galaxy.

Clearing a space under the tree for her sleeping roll and satisfied with the natural predator deterrent of prickly brush around her, she drank a few more swallows her water and sat, still somewhat stunned. Thinking of her task for tomorrow, finding more water and food, seemed somehow less daunting. There was an unfamiliar straightness in her spine and the corners of her lips seemed to remember a long-forgotten action. They curled upwards, ever so slightly. Whatever came tomorrow, she now carried the heights of inspiration from her past with her. And there is no greater treasure than that.