Day 43: Here’s to a New History

That's the best count I could give, anyway. A few weeks ago, when flipping the switch might still turn on a light, that'd be more exact. Funny how when we have the time, we don't have what we need. Journaling wasn't exactly the most choice activity until now. I could have used a lot of things then that I have now and spend most of my time these days looking for what I had in plenty when all this started. Might not be the only sitting here if that were the damn case.

Peace and quiet hasn't come easy since the event. That's what the news called it for the few days afterward. The Event. Classic disassociation. But then, who would want to acknowledge the reality of what was going on? I didn't. Seeing things at a good, safe distance is quite another kind of thing. A thick glass wall between you and the lion makes the beast an object of curiosity and love, for the right people. Tall grasses weren't weaving behind you, the hot savanna sun beating down, slower than your neighbor but wishing you were faster than the wind. There were reasons that most animals were demons in the dark and fires were built within walls erected to ward off the things that sought to erase us from the face of the planet. We evolved too well, until our only predator could possibly be ourselves. For a while that meant hot lead and pointed instruments. These days? Something else.

I can see a few fields of tall grass from where I'm sitting now atop the hill. It was a landfill when I was a kid, earth's dirt piled and piled on top of our garbage. Which are really just corpses for our memories, anyway. The meadows hadn't started to weave yet, but they would soon enough. I have the rifle ready for that, propped up on the cooler. I'm trying to decide if I should run the risk of breaking out the couple beers I managed to save, cracking them open and toasting the sunset on my own. Hell with it. Tomorrow someone might be fishing them off my corpse. What's the point of keeping on, if you don't enjoy the little things? Here's to me, to the rest of the suckers hanging on. Here's to the start of my new history.