It still surprised me that I could see the sun. That any of us could. I was always led to believe that, after a bomb such as the one which broke things for us, the sun would disappear behind an impenetrable radioactive cloud of dust and ash. I certainly wasn’t complaining. All the time I could see normality, such as this, it gave me hope that there was a chance things could, once again, go back to normal. Even if it’s on some distant shore that one of the planes could transport me too. Regardless, with the sun going down now, I knew I had been walking for about six hours. Thankfully I hadn’t seen anymore of those things but rather depressingly I hadn’t bumped into any survivors either. Sure, there was a part of me that was scared of seeing anyone in case they were like my own family now - poisoned by the change in the world with the potential to kill me for a food source or because they’d feel threatened by me - but at the same time I was scared of being alone too.
