Notes from the End of the World

Isolation

I barely left home in the weeks to follow. I just didn't feel like it.

The world was crumbling to pieces, my wife was probably dead and I buried my father in the backyard with my own hands.

I spent the six grand I had in my bank account for buying me supplies; canned food, many gallons of water, a kerosene generator, candies, chocolate bars, candles, matchsticks, medicines, soap bars, bullets for my dad's old revolver, and the most expensive whiskey I could find. I supposed that that would keep me running for some six months. I was wrong, it was not even enough for two months, but I found a very different reality when I went "shopping" for the second time.

The government issued a curfew and the national guard took control of the streets. I could hear shots day and night, and men on NBC suits walking up and down the street, dumping bodies in a truck. I watched the news during the whole afternoon and even during the whole night. I could not sleep most of the nights. The stories of outbreaks all across the globe, the chaos taking control over cities and countries, decimating entire cities and regions.

When I woke up one morning, there was no electricity. No soldiers on the streets. No gunshots. Just silence.

Then I knew that it was over.