A Conversation

“I’ve been thinking about leaving,” he told me. His eyes stared into nothingness, straying from reality. his face was coated with filth he hadn’t bothered to clean off in weeks. I could tell he wasn’t well.

I felt my heart sink. “To go where?” I asked. “You know you’ll die. They’re everywhere.”

“I can’t last much longer in here. It’s so…dark.”

I couldn’t help but agree with him as I glanced about the disgustingly gloomy room. The boarded windows blocked out every ounce of sunlight that we so craved. The decaying building hadn’t been used in years. Its rafters whined with each gust of wind, threatening to cave in on us, taking away our only protection from them.

“We’ve got enough food to last us a year,” I told him.

He shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. Five months is too long, can’t stay locked up like this.”

“They’ll eat you alive.”

He grinned. “Let them. At least I’ll see the sun one last time.”

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