Untitled Writing Piece Number 1

It was a cool night when the world ended. Crisp and clear, he was sitting on the roof of the house, watching the stars. There was supposed to be a meteor shower, and he was anxious to see it. He’d never had the chance to see one in real life before. No one thought anything was wrong when fire streaked across the sky. No one realized, not until it was too late. Bombs, he found out later. They burned the sky, lighting the night so you’d think it was day. At the time, no one knew why it happened. People were terrified it was nuclear war, scared they were all going to die. As it turned out, they were half right. Unfortunately for many, there were fates worse than death. Now, there he was, a survivor of the apocalypse.

“Is it in good shape?” The call echoed across the walls of the building, half of it bombed into rubble. He, like the rest of what remained of the city, picked clean what little there was left. And, of the little that they found, supplies were limited and running out fast. There wasn’t any telling how much longer society could keep on as though everything was normal.

“I think so,” he replied, grunting as he tugged a battery loose from a pile of rubble. It had once been on the shelf of a car supply store, and was one of few batteries remaining. “How many should we get?” he asked.

“Umm…” she walked over, shining her flashlight across the rubble the battery came from. A couple of more could be seen amidst the broken concrete, but it looked risky to try and go for them. The entire pile could cave, burying them both.

“Better safe than sorry, right?” she said, he nodded in agreement. Hefting the battery onto his shoulder, the pair left the building, heading back out to daylight.

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