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Description
Uninterrupted

I made my way down the alley, pulling my trench coat closer to my body. My breath made soft, miniature clouds as I breathed out. The cold rain was slipping beneath my collar and making my skin erupt into goose bumps. The sun was on the edge of setting and I knew I had to get back to my apartment before it was too dark. There weren’t any streetlamps to guide my way these days.

Hopping over a puddle I found the side door to my apartment building and shoved it open. The warped wood creaked slightly and I shook off the sound, not letting my nervousness get to me. There wasn’t any sense in getting all worked up when there wasn’t anything there to begin with. I turned to shut the door and lock it. Not like it really mattered anymore. I reached into my coat pocket and took out an old lighter, flicking it and letting it catch light before pressing the flame to a nearby jarred candle. As the flame took I shook the lighter out and stuffed it back into my pocket.

I grabbed up the jar and made my way up the personnel staircase that would take me up to the top of the third story, brownstone apartment complex. There wasn’t any point in taking the elevator of course since there wasn’t any electricity. Not that I had ever been really big on elevators in the first place, always gave me the creeps. I looked back at the side door before I crossed up at the second floor, maybe I should unlock it? Most of what I did was out of habit anyways. I just didn’t want to have to deal with animals though. Plus a good wind could knock the door open and that would just get water on any supplies I kept down here.

I shook my head and ignored my thoughts about the stupid door. If someone wanted to get in, they could use the front entrance. I just used the side door because it felt secretive and mysterious. Kept the day exciting at least. I made my way up the stairs once again without any further inhibitions.

As I made it to the third floor I leaned against the metal door that led into the main hallway and pushed on through. A chorus of soft mewling voices met my ears and I smiled and called out to my companion’s voices. Since I had the top floor all to myself I had opened up all of the apartments, four in total, and had let my pets take refuge where ever they felt like it. I had six cats living with me at the moment, not counting the three or four that would wander by the complex and knew they could find an easy meal here.

I set the candled down on a side table in the hallway and took out the lighter once more and in the dim afternoon light that came in through the windows I began to light other candles and a few kerosene lamps. The cats followed me about for a moment, but then grew restless on discovering I was just doing my nightly rituals and not tending to them at the moment.

When I finished I returned to my main apartment which I used and removed my coat, hanging it up on the quaint little coat rack I found while I was in town awhile back. I ran my fingers through my slightly damp hair and then proceeded into the kitchen where I grabbed a bag of dry food for the cats and poured them each their dinner into their individual bowls.

Strangely enough I did this all in relative silence. Sure, I hummed a tune every now and then, but otherwise I just kept to myself. I read a long time ago that silence drove some people crazy; I guess I just had gotten used to it after all this time. When I did hear an unfamiliar sound, like a car or the static of a radio it seemed almost unbearable. Things just seemed so much louder than before.

I went into my bedroom to change, but before I removed my shirt I stopped and looked at the battery-powered radio. It had been a few weeks since I had last tried to pick up a stray signal. It was good to check to see if anyone had come into town or there was someone who needed some help. The last time I had checked it had been too late, the guy had caught the virus and if you didn’t get immediate attention, well there just wasn’t any use in me trying to make my way in the dead of night through the city.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like there were zombies or anything like that. When I think back on all of the science fiction movies that scared the crap out of me as a kid, about zombies or aliens coming to hunt mankind at the end of the world, it kinda makes me laugh now. When you’re dead, you’re dead. And I haven’t seen ET in my bedroom snacking on Reese’s Pieces or anything like that. That doesn’t mean I like wandering around in the dark though. It’s human nature to fear that, nothing to be ashamed of. At least that’s what I tell myself.

So bottom line, the guy was too far away for me to really do anything. I took down his name though, in case anybody who knew him happened to come by looking for him. Luke-somethingorother, I can’t remember right now. That’s my job now though, everybody’s job. Those of us who are left have to keep record. There isn’t any pay involved, but we don’t really need money anyways since we are allowed to have whatever society has left and what Earth still wants to give us.

It was ten years ago when the virus struck. I heard a lot of rumors about what started it, but I never tried to really think about it too much anyways. All the thing did was kill. It didn’t turn you into a zombie or a lunatic or even anything romantic as a vampire (I read about that in a book once). It just killed. So much so that eighty percent of the world’s population died out. It didn’t seem to affect plants and animal life that much, so maybe it was just Mother Nature’s way of harvesting its bad seeds. Those who were left, we simply grouped up and fought through despair of losing everyone and everything we knew. We had a colony on the moon set up, so there were a few hundred who left for the base there.

I stayed in my hometown. The thought of going into space scared the hell out of me so I wanted to take my chances where I was familiar with the territory. There are about seventy-five to a hundred of us here. We don’t really try and seek each other out. I think it was all the rumors that the virus caused that made people just want to distance themselves. Everybody who still makes a life on this planet has a lot of anguish to work through.

I went over and turned on the radio. There was static at first, but as I fiddled with the tuning knob, a soft music began to seep through the small speakers. It was Dvorak’s New World Symphony. It had always been one of my favorites. I stood there, very still. I savored the sound of each note and wondered who on earth was playing it. After a moment I shuffled over to my bed and sat down dumbly. I didn’t care if my wet clothes got the sheets wet. It had been so long since I had allowed myself to take in such a thing.

I imagined the faces of my mother and father, along with the face of my wife. She had died five years into the struggle with the virus and it had been the most soul crushing moment in the whole mess. I saw once again her auburn hair as it would shine in the sunlight when we would run in the park. We were newlyweds, she couldn’t have kids and I never made her feel bad about that. I never thought I would make that great of a dad anyways. We thought about adopting in the future maybe. Maybe didn’t mean much of anything now though.

I remember the last night she was alive. She had refused to stay in the hospital once she found out that she did indeed have the virus. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it, so why take up the bed space in some unfamiliar, cold room. I remember lying on the bed next to her, doing my best to hold back the tears as she shuddered every now and then. I didn’t want her to see me upset. We had cried enough in front of each other about it. We didn’t do anything special that night. Didn’t listen to any music, didn’t watch her favorite movie, didn’t try to dance once last slow dance. I just lay there and let her head rest gently on my chest. She would say things once and awhile, I think most of it was just her brain shutting down.

When she finally did let go, I did too. I cried into her hair. I remember that the most because I woke up with it stuck to my face like my own funeral shroud. I didn’t let her lay there very long though, I picked her up and carried her into the back yard and got the shovel from the garage and dug her grave. It was just what you had to do back then. I didn’t say any words, just laid her into the ground. There was no one to call; both of our families were long gone. When it was done I simply walked into the kitchen and sat at the table and tried to think about what to do next.

It’s been so long since I thought about her. I only had seven years with her, but really that was okay. She was mine and I didn’t blame anyone for taking her away. A lot of people got angry at God, but what was the use in that? He wasn’t talking back to any of us. I just lived in sorrow and uninterrupted silence.

As the music slowly faded I broke from my thoughts. No one spoke after the silence and I reached out and switched off the radio. I went on with changing out of my wet clothes and pulled on a new shirt and pants. I tried not thinking about the radio. I was sure that someone was simply trying to give a little comfort to those that were still out there listening to static. That was fine with me, maybe I’d switch it on again sometime.

Moving back to the living room a sharp buzz filled my ears. It was the alarm that let me know someone was trying to get in downstairs. I walked over to the little intercom and pressed the speaker button.

“Hello?”

“Y-Yes, is anyone there?” a timid woman’s voice came through the speaker.

I was shocked. Guess it was just someone new in town. “Yep, third floor, take the stairs.” I pressed the button below the speaker button and let the door downstairs open for the girl.

I walked over to the service door and waited for the person to come up. After a minute a small figure pushed her way through. She wore a hooded jacket and looked to be in her late teens. “Sorry about bothering you, I wouldn’t have known anyone was here if I hadn’t heard the music.”

“Yeah, it was weird; I didn’t know anyone had a radio show these days.” I replied. “You from town?”

“No, I just got here. I’m from the country. I heard there were more people in the cities. I hope I’m not imposing,” she let down her hood. Her hair was auburn.

“Not at all. It was just silence and I. He seems to be leaving now,” I said as I gave a smile.

Description
Uninterrupted

I made my way down the alley, pulling my trench coat closer to my body. My breath made soft, miniature clouds as I breathed out. The cold rain was slipping beneath my collar and making my skin erupt into goose bumps. The sun was on the edge of setting and I knew I had to get back to my apartment before it was too dark. There weren’t any streetlamps to guide my way these days.

Hopping over a puddle I found the side door to my apartment building and shoved it open. The warped wood creaked slightly and I shook off the sound, not letting my nervousness get to me. There wasn’t any sense in getting all worked up when there wasn’t anything there to begin with. I turned to shut the door and lock it. Not like it really mattered anymore. I reached into my coat pocket and took out an old lighter, flicking it and letting it catch light before pressing the flame to a nearby jarred candle. As the flame took I shook the lighter out and stuffed it back into my pocket.

I grabbed up the jar and made my way up the personnel staircase that would take me up to the top of the third story, brownstone apartment complex. There wasn’t any point in taking the elevator of course since there wasn’t any electricity. Not that I had ever been really big on elevators in the first place, always gave me the creeps. I looked back at the side door before I crossed up at the second floor, maybe I should unlock it? Most of what I did was out of habit anyways. I just didn’t want to have to deal with animals though. Plus a good wind could knock the door open and that would just get water on any supplies I kept down here.

I shook my head and ignored my thoughts about the stupid door. If someone wanted to get in, they could use the front entrance. I just used the side door because it felt secretive and mysterious. Kept the day exciting at least. I made my way up the stairs once again without any further inhibitions.

As I made it to the third floor I leaned against the metal door that led into the main hallway and pushed on through. A chorus of soft mewling voices met my ears and I smiled and called out to my companion’s voices. Since I had the top floor all to myself I had opened up all of the apartments, four in total, and had let my pets take refuge where ever they felt like it. I had six cats living with me at the moment, not counting the three or four that would wander by the complex and knew they could find an easy meal here.

I set the candled down on a side table in the hallway and took out the lighter once more and in the dim afternoon light that came in through the windows I began to light other candles and a few kerosene lamps. The cats followed me about for a moment, but then grew restless on discovering I was just doing my nightly rituals and not tending to them at the moment.

When I finished I returned to my main apartment which I used and removed my coat, hanging it up on the quaint little coat rack I found while I was in town awhile back. I ran my fingers through my slightly damp hair and then proceeded into the kitchen where I grabbed a bag of dry food for the cats and poured them each their dinner into their individual bowls.

Strangely enough I did this all in relative silence. Sure, I hummed a tune every now and then, but otherwise I just kept to myself. I read a long time ago that silence drove some people crazy; I guess I just had gotten used to it after all this time. When I did hear an unfamiliar sound, like a car or the static of a radio it seemed almost unbearable. Things just seemed so much louder than before.

I went into my bedroom to change, but before I removed my shirt I stopped and looked at the battery-powered radio. It had been a few weeks since I had last tried to pick up a stray signal. It was good to check to see if anyone had come into town or there was someone who needed some help. The last time I had checked it had been too late, the guy had caught the virus and if you didn’t get immediate attention, well there just wasn’t any use in me trying to make my way in the dead of night through the city.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like there were zombies or anything like that. When I think back on all of the science fiction movies that scared the crap out of me as a kid, about zombies or aliens coming to hunt mankind at the end of the world, it kinda makes me laugh now. When you’re dead, you’re dead. And I haven’t seen ET in my bedroom snacking on Reese’s Pieces or anything like that. That doesn’t mean I like wandering around in the dark though. It’s human nature to fear that, nothing to be ashamed of. At least that’s what I tell myself.

So bottom line, the guy was too far away for me to really do anything. I took down his name though, in case anybody who knew him happened to come by looking for him. Luke-somethingorother, I can’t remember right now. That’s my job now though, everybody’s job. Those of us who are left have to keep record. There isn’t any pay involved, but we don’t really need money anyways since we are allowed to have whatever society has left and what Earth still wants to give us.

It was ten years ago when the virus struck. I heard a lot of rumors about what started it, but I never tried to really think about it too much anyways. All the thing did was kill. It didn’t turn you into a zombie or a lunatic or even anything romantic as a vampire (I read about that in a book once). It just killed. So much so that eighty percent of the world’s population died out. It didn’t seem to affect plants and animal life that much, so maybe it was just Mother Nature’s way of harvesting its bad seeds. Those who were left, we simply grouped up and fought through despair of losing everyone and everything we knew. We had a colony on the moon set up, so there were a few hundred who left for the base there.

I stayed in my hometown. The thought of going into space scared the hell out of me so I wanted to take my chances where I was familiar with the territory. There are about seventy-five to a hundred of us here. We don’t really try and seek each other out. I think it was all the rumors that the virus caused that made people just want to distance themselves. Everybody who still makes a life on this planet has a lot of anguish to work through.

I went over and turned on the radio. There was static at first, but as I fiddled with the tuning knob, a soft music began to seep through the small speakers. It was Dvorak’s New World Symphony. It had always been one of my favorites. I stood there, very still. I savored the sound of each note and wondered who on earth was playing it. After a moment I shuffled over to my bed and sat down dumbly. I didn’t care if my wet clothes got the sheets wet. It had been so long since I had allowed myself to take in such a thing.

I imagined the faces of my mother and father, along with the face of my wife. She had died five years into the struggle with the virus and it had been the most soul crushing moment in the whole mess. I saw once again her auburn hair as it would shine in the sunlight when we would run in the park. We were newlyweds, she couldn’t have kids and I never made her feel bad about that. I never thought I would make that great of a dad anyways. We thought about adopting in the future maybe. Maybe didn’t mean much of anything now though.

I remember the last night she was alive. She had refused to stay in the hospital once she found out that she did indeed have the virus. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it, so why take up the bed space in some unfamiliar, cold room. I remember lying on the bed next to her, doing my best to hold back the tears as she shuddered every now and then. I didn’t want her to see me upset. We had cried enough in front of each other about it. We didn’t do anything special that night. Didn’t listen to any music, didn’t watch her favorite movie, didn’t try to dance once last slow dance. I just lay there and let her head rest gently on my chest. She would say things once and awhile, I think most of it was just her brain shutting down.

When she finally did let go, I did too. I cried into her hair. I remember that the most because I woke up with it stuck to my face like my own funeral shroud. I didn’t let her lay there very long though, I picked her up and carried her into the back yard and got the shovel from the garage and dug her grave. It was just what you had to do back then. I didn’t say any words, just laid her into the ground. There was no one to call; both of our families were long gone. When it was done I simply walked into the kitchen and sat at the table and tried to think about what to do next.

It’s been so long since I thought about her. I only had seven years with her, but really that was okay. She was mine and I didn’t blame anyone for taking her away. A lot of people got angry at God, but what was the use in that? He wasn’t talking back to any of us. I just lived in sorrow and uninterrupted silence.

As the music slowly faded I broke from my thoughts. No one spoke after the silence and I reached out and switched off the radio. I went on with changing out of my wet clothes and pulled on a new shirt and pants. I tried not thinking about the radio. I was sure that someone was simply trying to give a little comfort to those that were still out there listening to static. That was fine with me, maybe I’d switch it on again sometime.

Moving back to the living room a sharp buzz filled my ears. It was the alarm that let me know someone was trying to get in downstairs. I walked over to the little intercom and pressed the speaker button.

“Hello?”

“Y-Yes, is anyone there?” a timid woman’s voice came through the speaker.

I was shocked. Guess it was just someone new in town. “Yep, third floor, take the stairs.” I pressed the button below the speaker button and let the door downstairs open for the girl.

I walked over to the service door and waited for the person to come up. After a minute a small figure pushed her way through. She wore a hooded jacket and looked to be in her late teens. “Sorry about bothering you, I wouldn’t have known anyone was here if I hadn’t heard the music.”

“Yeah, it was weird; I didn’t know anyone had a radio show these days.” I replied. “You from town?”

“No, I just got here. I’m from the country. I heard there were more people in the cities. I hope I’m not imposing,” she let down her hood. Her hair was auburn.

“Not at all. It was just silence and I. He seems to be leaving now,” I said as I gave a smile.