Our World XI

Our World XI

October 25, 2012 Uncategorized 0

Four separate stories, four different lives in the wake of the perfect storm. The choices we make are building the new face of humanity. Each day we struggle to survive. No more news, no Hollywood and no political finger pointing. Now the lights are out, water stopped running, this is Our World

Kurtis O’Leary

Survival is a prison. You literally eat drink and breathe survival. All day everyday. While you eat your first meal you think about your next and where to get water.

Connor needs a few good meals under his belt. Developing an adult brain under these circumstances will be difficult for him. I have got to think of something. He is thin. I know I am two but who the hell cares. All the food I have thrown away in my life just cycles through my head everyday. The waste. If only we could have a fraction back of what we wasted in our lives we could feed masses of people. What do they say about hindsight. Whatever it is it pisses me off.

Winter is coming too close. Though months away it is already keeping me up at night. Which is why today I opted for a swim. There is spring fed pond beyond the shattered developments we call home. It sees a ton of traffic from people seeking water but there are also those who swim in there. We were swimmers today. Sometimes you have to break out of that prison and clear your head for a moment. If only just a moment. Soak and let the worries drip off of you. Look at the smile on your sons face. Try not to look at his ribs. We are going to make it

Terrence Howard

I walked quick against the blackness. Our world gets so dark now. A darkness that I feel hardly anyone knows. It was certainly a stranger to me my first night out in it. You have to remember when my family and I took shelter the world was just teetering on the verge of destruction. It was my first experience with the new moon. Just us. No rude lights to interrupt. The sky just crushes you with brilliance to the point where you wonder what fool would have created so much electric light to block out its beauty.

The new moon was on my side. That and a road flare I had packed in my bag. I hucked the road flare from the woods just east of my home before blowing off my survival whistle. It landed just up the street from my home and brought those frightened fools running. They all came scurrying out to the front porch some in arms others just to look. I could see them from the woods but with the no moon they could never see me. Still, I moved hastily not sure if they possessed any night vision or heat signal technology.

As the two well armed men left the front porch I slip deeper into the woods and crept along the back wall of my house. It was late. I was hoping my wife was watching the big eye in the sky. I did a job for many years that she never got to see. No one was supposed to see the work I did. I was great at keeping it that way. It paid well and afforded my family a great life. Unfortunately you retire early from a job like that either by choice or death.  I was never a big fan of death and tonight I would beat it again. As I closed the door on the crawl space I could feel the warmth of my family. Opening up the latch on the shelter a fresh scent arose. It was my wifes lotion but when I my light shone on the inside of the shelter….it was empty!

Sharon Kimball

The other half of this sordid puzzle is actually a woman. Serena Tallus. Evil woman who has seen nothing but pain in her life. You know its funny how some people when they experience trauma they devote their life to making things better for others and themselves. The idea of anyone going through the things they went through is simply unacceptable. This are those who are born with relentless bravery. Then there are others who have been through hell who are so afraid of ever taking that walk again that they will do anything not to. Sacrifice anyone in their struggle to gain power and control over their life. Enter Serena Tallus.

From what I hear she spent her late teens high on heroin being passed around by the highest bidder. She is a beautiful woman. Which I am sure she uses to her advantage. I am identifying these two and learning as much as I can about them because as you can imagine they will want to know why their little money bus went away. So if they catch wind of  who I am it will be best I understand who they are and the methods they might employ to find me.

That being said, nothing will stop me from my ultimate goal. Of course there are many things much more frightening than death. This life. This lonely, cold life is nothing to really write home about.

Gilbert Hernandez

So I head up to Kaplan Ave to meet with my promoter yesterday. You know we wanted to talk opponents. I am getting to the point where people are recognizing me so things are going well for me. It is something akin to being a boxer during the depression. I feel a little like Braddock but without the loving family part. Anyhow so I go to meet with Elgin and I am greeted by two guys, big guys and one is armed. He was holding a long metal rod but I could tell it was more for his protection from what our world has become and not to harm me.

Elgins dead. Elgin is dead. My only friend on this backwards planet. Gone. Ward and Randell were their names they dropped the bad news on me then told me “the fight game would miss you” and offered to help me along. We sat down and talked opponents. For what it was worth. No one really knows anything about anyone anymore.

I had to know how Elgin went. Its funny ya know people die a lot now. People get cut and die from it. Not arterial damage like a deep cut on the arm. Our world is filthy. You get used to the smell. Elgin had a cold last time we spoke. Respiratory system became infected. By the time he got around to bartering for some antibiotics he was in too deep. Taken out by a damned cold. Like I said that’s the way it goes around here. There is not quick fixes anymore. Home remedies are all we have. Gotta keep myself healthy.


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  1. JKB says:

    Great cliffhanger with Kurtis O’Leary. Keep ’em coming.

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