Fulcrum

Intro

Taking a momentary break on his seemingly never ending journey, a lone street bench catches his eye. The only untouched item in a sea of rubble and death. He approached stumbling, tripping over debris as he yearned to sit in a chair made for human beings. He collapsed into the seat, cold, stiff, uncomfortable yet he embraced it as if it were his home. He reached into his pack and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He flipped the top, "Empty" he mumbled. He flipped the empty pack on the ground, next to where it landed were several cigarette butts white from weathering but this served as a reminder of the world that was, and an all so perfect metaphor of the world that is.

After admiring in a moment of "what used to be" he gathered his seemingly last bit of strength and pulled himself off of the bench. He took a deep but soft breath, and began to move confidently over the rubble of the building nearest him. He was headed south-ish.

It had been over a year since he last saw another living human, nearly a two years since he had seen a living animal. He had given up hope at finding any fresh meat, or companions, these were becoming foreign concepts to him, and he slowly tried to embrace his solidarity. He made great efforts to find a bible months ago, not that he was religious, but after everything that happened he prayed. This kept his hopes up, he began to trust that the past happened for a divine reason and that he was chosen for something great. Upon reflecting his new found "faith" he felt clinically insane, though who was there to judge.

The man finds refuge under debris as dusk sets on a volatile landscape of destruction. He rests there for the evening to avoid the negative 20 degrees Fahrenheit temperatures. All that remains in the wreckage of modern civilization are cans of food, decorations from over extravagant lifestyles, and a constant reminder of the world Curtis Lee Hanstetter had lost forever.