'Shelter'

I had a dream:

The world was on fire.

I kept myself in a room: never wanting to go out; wanting never to meet any semblance of the nuclear fallout. Until I remembered that I was actually waiting for someone, amid Armageddon. I stood waiting behind the dilapidated wooden door, catching nothing as I peered through the darkness of the world outside from a diamond shaped hole. As I did this, I recalled who it was I was waiting for: a mere dream-person.

In the beginning, we were constantly at loggerheads over everything and then, as clichés go, I fell for her.

I waited so long.

When the door opened I somehow knew that it was still her. All three of them had been subjected to the repercussions of the fallout. They had been mutated: mother, child, friend.

I felt sorry for her friend, because I secretly knew his real burden: that he had to accompany her all the way to me. I said good evening, sir and embraced him. Perhaps fulfilling his role then, he vanished into thin air.

The baby seemed to be asleep as she laid him down on a blanket, supported by a table. His hands seemed to be pushing his box-shaped head; his neck, elongated by a few inches.

The child doesn't look alright I said to her. No, he's not anymore she replied. I couldn't leave him behind even after, she explained. And then I cried.

I cried for the dead child. It's been a while since I've felt anything as sad, so I know. I wept. And then I forced myself to stop, because I had to think of where to bury him.

( _")