My feet are killing me.

I feel like I’ve walked for years, decades even.  Maybe its only been a few days, but its so easy to lose track of time these days.

I found a city.  I don’t know if I’m going to stay here and I hate to admit that the closer quarters of the city streets terrify me.  The buildings and broken down cars and buses…. they are all just barriers to escape should I need to run.  However, the thought of maybe finding more than just this stupid can of cat food that I’ve been carrying around for weeks does sound enticing.  I dread the day that I have to make the decision to open and eat this mess.  It may be the end of the world, but I still really don’t want to eat cat food if I don’t have to.

I saw a woman.  She was sitting on a rock on the very outskirts of the city.  Just sitting there staring out over the landscape.  First person I’ve seen since…. Lord, just thinking about writing their names hurts.  I thought about talking to her.  Oh how I wanted to, just to walk up and say hello and have someone speak back.  I felt like my chest was going to burst with the need to hear her voice, but I kept walking instead.  I was just to afraid.  I ducked behind a building and stayed there for a really long time after seeing her and I just hope she didn’t see me.

My pack is just about empty.  That stupid can of cat food, my journal, some colored pencils and crayons, the morale booster that I keep hidden in the lining of my  bag, a small knife that has seen its share of the inside of dead heads and a beat up old crossbow.  All the possessions I have left in the world.  I have no more bolts for my crossbow.  It’s funny thinking back on how I got the dang thing in the first place. How Billie had squealed when we found that sporting goods store still basically intact.  He slept with that stupid basketball he found for days.  I miss that basketball nearly as much as I miss the kid who loved it.

I miss laughter.  Heck, sometimes I even miss the sound of my own voice, but I can’t seem to use it anymore.  I used to talk to myself, but it started to feel like maybe I was going crazy so I stopped.  Seemed pointless if no one was there to hear me.  Thats really when I started to write I guess.  At least then maybe someone, some day will hear what I had to say when the world fell apart.

Anyway, I’m just not ready to dive in to the city yet, so I’m writing this sitting up in a tree, tethered to it so I don’t fall off and kill myself…. much better to leave that for the dead.  They are very good at killing.

Maybe I”ll be brave tomorrow and venture closer.  Maybe if I see another person I’ll speak to them.  I just don’t know.