To say that we live just doesn’t seem right. I eat I move. I drink. I even sleep. But… it doesn’t feel right. 753 days ago I woke up in the garden alone and covered in dew laying on a path of bricks. 671 days ago I saw the first other person I had ever seen among the perfectly manicured hedges. 623 days ago I talked to her. 543 days ago she talked back. 217 days ago we met someone else. 30 days ago I watched them both die. Yesterday I found a weapon. There are things I’ve learned about this place; where to find food, where to drink, where to sleep out of the rain. There are things I’ve feared, starving, loneliness, dying in a spurt of too bright blood. There are things I’ve fled from. I don’t know if they can be killed but I guess from a logical point I don’t know yet if I can be. Today I’m going to find out. I crouched among the bushes at the end of the lane. The garden here was less shrubs and more l...
Two of we, plus three of ours, makes five of us.