Monday August 19th, 2013

The exercise:

Write about something that has been: dismantled.

Max is certainly becoming very adept at taking things apart these days. I look forward to the time when he starts putting them back together afterward.

Also: apparently he knows how to open cupboards now?

Trouble is a coming and there's no end in sight.

Mine:

The base had been dismantled years before our arrival, stripped clean of equipment, weapons, food. In short: everything that might have been useful to us in our dire state.

Everything, that is, except the roof over our heads and the walls surrounding us. Barriers between our ragtag group and the harsh elements outside. The biting wind, the miserable rain... we were safely beyond their demoralizing grasp.

For a short while, at least. It was a respite, though we knew it could only be brief. Our supplies would only last for so long before we were forced back outdoors to find more sustenance. We would delay that moment as much as possible but each of us was aware that it was drawing closer with every intake of breath.

And that, somewhere beyond those comforting walls, they would be waiting for us.