Andrea Kurtz

Hope

“It’s from the before-times.” The man sitting across from her startled her out of her trance, holding a silver chain up near the fire, the night breeze twisting a small heart with a smooth center surrounded by a filigree detail. He had walked up just before sunset, bearing no weapons, and gestured towards to the far side of her fire when they crossed paths somewhere off the old road between the ruins of Charlotte and the small market town of Atlanta. They had been sitting in silence while they ate their separate meals.