Hope II

A Roof Above Our Heads

As I stare down the long narrow wooden stick I begin to plot my next move, and come to accept the consequences that may come if I make one false twerk of the weapon. It was painted red like blood, taunting me as I stared at it whilst hovering the tip alongside the white, preparing to fire it like a bullet across the green grass like board, but no. I did so slowly, bringing it back ever so slightly, and gently tipping the tip of the stick off the centre of the cue ball, forwarding it on down the table to hit the red solid and pocket it straight into the top left net, lining up the cue perfectly for my final shot on the black eight. I looked at with a big smile on my face and I glanced up at my opponent who stood against the wall realising he had lost the game. 

'Sorry Dylan' I said to him, resting my chin on the bridge of the cue stick, how strange it feels not having a big beard in the way of my chin, the pool cue nesting nicely on my short stubble, my eyes looking down at the black ball 'Maybe next time' I said, firing the cue ball off the black and ending the game with a clean pocket. 

Dylan looked at me when he stroked his face with a grin 'Tomorrow' he said, looking at me 'I'll get you tomorrow' 

I smiled 'Maybe' I said 'Maybe' 

I stretched my back, almost touching the ceiling of the small room fitted with two pool tables, still in very good shape after all the years. The entire supermarket is well painted and varnished to preserve its interior and make it an adequate place for a community to live. It's nothing like the village in the sense that you cannot walk outside and visit your neighbours. Here, we all have the one roof above our heads, and we love to share it with one another. 

'How long does it take to barbeque that food?' asked Dylan. 

I shook my head 'Never barbequed a rabbit before' I replied 'C'mon, we'll head up' 

I walked towards the door and opened it, feasting my eyes upon the ground floor of the supermarket, cleverly renovated to make it feel more like home. 

All the shelves were taken out, the massive open space was full with different areas. There was a living area fitted with sofas and torn yet cosy armchairs and also several beanbags occupied by people, communicating with each other. 

There was a circular table at one section of the ground floor surrounded by tables and a deck of cards with a case of chips resting in the middle. A poker table. 

There was even a bar, not an actual bar, just a counter top, behind which were a stack of shelves holding pint and wine glasses along with regular glasses. The bar had three bottles of fine whiskey and wine, sealed tightly to prevent contamination. I never knew whiskey could survive this long after the end of the world, turns out if it's good enough, alcohol can last for decades. 

We don't drink it a lot though, maybe only once or twice every fortnight for a sort of treat. I've only had it twice. The first was the night we arrived, myself and my brother finally got to have a drink together, something we were never able to do before. 

This place reminds me slightly of the village, simply because I can rest at night without the fear of death. 

The newest additions to our home were the colourful decorations celebrating the Christmas cheer. We had no lights because we have only limited electricity running on an old fuel based generator, the prime function of it being to make the water for showers slightly warmer.  

We do have a Christmas tree, lit up by candles in small candleholders below the tree, decorated beautifully by the women and children, full of snowflakes and balls, orbs and stars, topped with an angel made by the youngest child here, Oscar, a boy no older than five.