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 Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2008 10:37 am
I'm tearing up! What in the world! gonk
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Posted: Sat Aug 09, 2008 3:55 am
seriously Zahmen.... I was gone for a year and I still remembered this... more please!! I wants to know what happens!
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Posted: Sat Oct 11, 2008 12:37 am
Something new
Al has an infection in a cut on his leg; we're keeping it clean with saltwater for the time being.
Cuba should be about a day's drift away (provided we are floating in the same direction).
I told him that I loved him and he laughed and called me a f*****t.
Apparently we can ******** all he wants but as soon as I want something emotional or give it a name he decides to be "Mr. Morals" again.
It was a kind-hearted laugh though, and I can't stay mad at him.
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Posted: Sat Oct 11, 2008 7:31 am
Zahmen and I can't stand mad at him. Can't stay? Well, I wasn't expecting that, but maybe it was because I read it so long ago. Going back, actually I see the connection with the previous. However simple this is, I do like it.
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Posted: Mon Oct 27, 2008 9:49 pm
This is really fascinating...I'm not sure what I can say that hasn't been said, but I am looking forward to the next installment.
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Posted: Thu Jul 29, 2010 10:32 pm
It's been a long ******** time.
Al died about a year and a half ago.
That infection in his leg went away at first, but sometime in the three weeks we spent crossing Cuban landscape it came back as blood poisoning.
I spent three days by his side, giving him water and whispering my love into his ears as he slowly burned out; his last words were either "I couldn't hack it" or "You're a f*****t" and I can't decide which one hurts more.
Regardless, I spent the better part of a year alone.
We had figured that Cuba would have been safe from the blasts; Al and I had been so sure that there were only three bombs.
Oh God, how much I wish I had stayed in the States, where the only enemy was the occasional marauder and possibly black lung.
How much I wish I hadn't learned about the counter-attack.
Mutual destruction.
We ******** nuked all of the major nations in the ******** world.
All of them.
France?
Gone.
Germany?
Gone.
England?
Smoldering rock in a puddle.
How much I wish we had just used nukes, and this was a magical world where biological weapons did not exist.
It was in the forests of Cuba that I came across a young boy who was very ill.
He was the first living person I had seen in months, and I naturally wanted company, so I followed him back to his town; upon which I realized that every single person in this town was dying of smallpox.
I had never run so fast in my entire life.
I procured an actual boat and enough gasoline to power it, and I sailed back to Florida about three months ago. A small part of me knew that since Cuba wasn't the paradise i had wanted, I may as well return to the mainland.
I spent a month in the Florida Keys, scooping dead fish off of the coast and praying they wouldn't poison me as I ate them; surprisingly the Key Deer population skyrocketed, but considering that I was most likely the only living person left travelling those roads I wasn't surprised.
It took me about a month to bike up to Orlando, where I stopped in and spent a night or seven climbing the roller coaster tracks.
I've decided to wait out the winter in Florida.
The ash here isn't as thick, and sometimes I like to think I can still see the sun.
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Posted: Fri Jul 30, 2010 3:17 pm
Ah. Still depressing, of course.
I can appreciate the simplicity that seems to highlight the crazy, especially with the line about roller coasters.
And yes, still crazy.
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Posted: Fri Jul 30, 2010 4:19 pm
Wow, I know I'm quite late to the game but I've been reading through these. Admittedly, I was a bit skeptical at first sort of, "Oh look, another post nuclear apocalypse story". But the way you write it puts a new spin on it. This sounds like something a real person would write while still being haunting in depressing.
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Posted: Wed Aug 04, 2010 7:58 pm
The last line made me think of my first few nights in Orlando when I would stalk the courtyard and the campus a 3 in the morning.
But it was more along the lines of... still thinking I can see the stars.
I have always loved this story. It makes me feel something. Not so sympathy or fear or anger. Just a placcid... content-like feeling. As if it were me walking around the marred country, imagining snow instead of ash. Though I always did like using ash from fires to scribble on walls.
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