Submerged

V. What they see.

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Paris, France. February 2036.

   It was early morning, and due to anxiety Nadine had woken up before the sun rose. They had spent the night sheltered in a small decoration shop. The door to the street didn't offer extreme security, but she preferred that to a building where they could have been drowned on the other floor without them knowing anything.

   The shop was small, a large sign with beautiful handwritten cursive lettering read: 'Magenta.' From the outside it felt like peering into a cozy home through the window, the furniture arranged as if it were a real house; but when you walked through each room you had to walk with one foot in front of the other due to the lack of space. Unlike many shops they had passed by, this one was still standing. Nadine didn't understand the point of stealing sofas or lamps when the world seemed to be ending.

   With care not to awaken Wilfred, who slept in a large iron bed, she got up and walked between the dining room and the kitchen. Dreamily, she centered the empty vase on the wooden table, ran her hand along the countertop, adjusted the knobs of the useless stove, and opened the empty fridge. She continued her way to the living room, approached the sofa from the back, passing one leg and then the other over the backrest.

   As she crossed her legs on the pink sofa, Wilfred mumbled in his sleep while his stomach growled angrily. Nadine watched him until he settled down again, then she glanced towards the turned-off television as she covered her body with a blanket. Behind the TV was the storefront, which faced the street. Not much could be seen due to the dirt and the cold, but the effect of light it generated was reassuring.

   She stayed there to watch the sunrise. She managed to see the silhouette of the sun peeking behind their destination. The ice on the glass melted quickly, carrying much of the dust with it, allowing for a clear view. Nadine followed with her gaze the little light that managed to filter through the clouds, observing every detail of the building they were heading towards. Its columns, its grand dome, and its statues, which had fascinated Wilfred so much that he had clapped with excitement. Seeing the simple happiness of the child, Nadine had started to jump in circles while laughing with her little friend.
   With a smile at the warm memory of the previous day, she stood up, rummaged in her bag until she found the last tin of preserves that a tall, charismatic woman had given them. Seeing the surprise of the girl at finding food in good condition and the little skinny boy accompanying her, she hadn't been able to resist.

   Their entire journey had been through the countryside, where people hardly consumed canned food; the little they had, they had taken with them. There, everyone bought fresh food from the shops in their villages. When such a thing still existed.

   She turned towards the bed to wake up Wilfred. It was empty. Fear ran down her spine. A noise distracted her, she looked towards the dining room. Wilfred was sitting on the dining chair, with swollen and closed eyes, his sweaty hair sticking to his face. He yawned while rubbing one of his eyes, twisting his glasses in the process. With his spare hand he moved his hermit crab. Wilfred changed its name twice a day.

   "Good morning, sweetheart."

   "Good morning, Mommy," the still sleepy child responded.

   Nadine's heart squeezed. The child's stomach pains caused him to have a fever during the night; in his dreams, he called out to members of his family. Nadine had counted almost eight names. Wilfred looked better since they had arrived in the city; now he only vomited once a day, during the time when the sun heated most intensely.