Our World XXIII

Our World XXIII

January 10, 2013 Uncategorized 0

Kurtis O-horz

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

The meeting was run by a man named Tom. His was was ripe with tragedy and deep lines of age and stress were cut into his face. I recognized them because I share the same markings. You know my father used to joke and say combat will make a man out of you. He was a Vietnam Vet. I beg to differ Dad. The most frightening thing about trauma is that it affects us all differently. For some get stronger in battle while others separate it from reality and still there the others who just love to hurt.

We discussed security topics and food stores as well as plans for the spring, gardens, livestock possibilities, before I was introduced. The group of about 20 looked my son and I over thoroughly. A few faces full of discontent. What could I do but prove my worth. I introduced us both and told our story. Tugged at their heart strings a little. Those that hadn’t been turned to stone by the events of the past. The community worked together on security and food procurement. Water was in abundance. How, I didnt ask. To busy filling my greedy face with a couple bottles.

Things could get better here. We would have to buy in and I would talk to Connor about that later in the night. It really was our only option at this point. To leave at this time of the winter would be a death sentence anyhow. Still, I wanted Connor to feel like he had at least a tiny grip on his life and the decisions in it. It helps build confidence when you let your child make some decisions. ” You smile here Dad. We should stay here,” was all he said before fallin asleep.

Terrence Howard

I want to create a sense of community with all of this going on. We have the bodies and I would like to see some of them stay and work together. Perhaps we could provide defense and food and work. Maybe bring some level of normal to this world. If nothing else we need protection. Until or if a faction of government comes to town and starts rebuilding. There will always be the risk of people wanting to take whats ours. Just like those at my home.

Note: Need to sneak back home to pick up food. either tomorrow but no later than the following day.

It seems the weather scared our guests into our home and away from my storage. This is great news. Could I go into the home and reason with these guys? That is the question. These are not reasonable times. If they blow me off my own porch there will be no penalty and I guess worst case scenario they could through me on the fire for dinner. This is my issue with starting the community.

I will think on this. This has to happen and there needs to be a leader. I have always been a shadow man. Not to be heard or seen. Life is responsible for two things and you can count on these. One. To carry you through a journey that leads directly to death. Two. That journey will so often pull you from your comfort zone and force you to become better. This is why we live.

Gilbert Hernandez

Have not heard from my guy in a few days. Dan is looking much better now. He stretches alot. He had someone from his family come over and bring some kind of tea. A day later he was up and moving around without pain. I need some of that tea. Its no wonder he was so tough. He has senzu bean tea. Strange traditions that havent let go over thousands of years. Thats something to admire about Asian populations.

I find it interesting that the promoters havent contacted either of us yet. I went downtown to see if I could find them. You know, if they died in that fire the thought hadnt even crossed my mind till now. There burnt up corpses could be crumbled up in the debris and who would know it.

Fireman dont come to put fires out anymore. This is something that is hard to understand if you are from my time. No sirens or whistles. Its like so many other things. They just get covered over by the dust of time and forgotten. My generation was so much about ‘me’ Facebook, Twitter, Linkden. Tell the world about who you are and why you are so great. The reality of our world is we are simply food for the earth. Maybe not today but someday we will be forgotten and thats the sad facts.

Sharon Kimball

My father hunted back in Virginia. When I was 10 I couldnt get it. It just wouldnt register. The supermarket was full of meat why did he have to kill something and bring it home. Cut it open, skin it and all that crap. “We have to thin them out honey. There isn’t enough food for the deer to live off of. We are managing the population.” Later in life I would understand it but at that age it all sounded like some lame excuse to kill a cute animal. I hated it.

A black set of steps in the back right wing of the school let up to a roof top door that was propped open with an old pack of cigarettes. Funny. They were heartless monsters who drugged women and children yet still had the decency to take the smoking outside. These men were trash. I gave the roof a thorough examination. ‘This could be good,’ I though aloud once I realized it was safe. Its a sad world when you have to choose between alone or safe. There was no time for deep thought and pity.

I sat up on that roof and watched the sun rise. I found two more doors that led to the building and blockaded them both. I pulled the extended magazine out of the carbine and counted my rounds. This was my tree stand. When a tall black man in a light vest walked out of the school I put the sights on him. Waited till he walked behind a big pickup and laid him down. One shot. It  was loud. There would be more. Population management.


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