Life After the Apocalypse

(Credit: Vladimir Manyuhin aka mvn78)

(Credit: Vladimir Manyuhin aka mvn78)

A new beginning, with fresh air and light greens. With summer dresses and the kind of music he had always wanted to enjoy from a large brass band.

And dancing.

He would learn the steps of interactions between equals.

And then he would whistle as he walked home through the woods to a small cottage. And there would be no one in that cottage to welcome him, except perhaps a blue budgerigar to remind him of the sky on rainy days. And the vines would crawl up under the eaves without ever being torn down by clumsy fingers searching for a way in. And there would be no crying at night from people he could not comfort. And every Sunday he would go out to the seaside and sing to waves which might carry seaweed and whales to the shore, but never bodies,

never

ever

bodies.

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