Marcel Carrero

The next few months

Same as every other day Tom frantically waves his hand over the brewing coffee to prevent the smoke from giving away his position, granted it does nothing about the smell but after months waiting for the sky to fall one learns how to make compromises on what constitutes proper, necessary life preserving measures and what is just a hassle. All the other undesirables ask him to brew the coffee far away from the church since they don't trust Tom's risk assessment skills and are perfectly aware that he smokes a cigarette right afterwards. They don't resent him, nobody resents anybody anymore, people slowly started to let go of any moral imperative once the imminent doom was undeniable. “In 32 years I’ve never drank coffee without sugar, and now I don't even know if I would use it if I had it" reflected Tom as he lit up the second half of yesterday's cigarette and took that first hit. "damn that feels good" he thought as he waved his hand again this time over the cigarette smoke. Tom was convinced that today was it for him and regretted a little that he won't get to see the pretty lights, but he had to try and see her, ideally to see the big event by her side or just to say goodbye as a worst case scenario. Worst case scenario? who was he kidding there was no guarantee that Gaby was even alive, after all Faunatia is notoriously filled with crazy people who ride alligators for fun. Once his shrine to the vices was covered with dirt Tom fitted his backpack and started to make his way to the Church.