Dream Threads

I can’t find anyone and I’ve been searching for years. I spend my days walking through the remnants of a past civilization with my only company being my dog, Red. Red and I have always had this special bond, a bond so strong that I would give my life in a heartbeat to save him. The first time that I had ever seen Red was two weeks after the final strike. I had been walking down the middle of a freeway, weaving in and out of cars when I saw a huddled ball underneath a turned-over semi that was slightly moving. Being only skin and bones, he was extremely dehydrated and starved. I gave him the rest of my water and laid with him long enough to awaken to slobber all over my left eye. I didn’t expect to gain a new friend, but from that moment on Red stayed by my side. I named him Red simply because it is my favorite color.

Red had given me, for a short time, hope that maybe I would eventually run into another person, another survivor. Now, four years later and I have yet to discover anyone else. So Red and I trudge along, scaling fallen rubble and ducking underneath fallen ceilings. The current goal? Keep walking. I used to spend my days with an actual destination in mind, places where I would think sanctuaries would be set up, but after two years of disappointment I decided it didn’t matter anymore where I was walking to. And so here I am, one foot in front of the other, singing the lyrics to an old Guns N Roses song with my trusty partner by my side, and not a single clue as to where I am headed. That is, until I spot a pillar of smoke rising from a street corner five blocks away and I freeze in my tracks. Four years. Four years without any sign of survivors and now all of a sudden there is a fire ahead of me, and I realize I am no longer alone.