Sustenance Amidst the Ruins

A Vocal.media story: Doomsday Diary: June 29.2021

The wisp of a young girl surveys the rubble of the decimated city street. She is methodical as she navigates the remains of chunks of broken concrete, smashed furniture, shards of glass, and the decaying bodies of those left behind, now naked and decomposing. Their clothes long striped by the barely living.

She, Millie, though barely ten, emaciated, with tangled auburn hair that sways across her face as she swoops down into a crouch to retrieve her prize. As she reaches her long thin arms to grasp the bit of stale bread, she is surprised to find a thin gold chain. Millie pulls on the chain and from the mud, she pulled out a locket. She was mesmerized by the sight of the heart-shaped locket. She squints at its form until the howling dogs inform her to grab and run.

Few roam the remains of the great empire. Those who do are desperate, hungry or foolish. There are no heroes, only plenty of weary, homeless children. Hunger is strong for those who survive though the greater hunger for purpose, for meaning, is a whirlpool that sucks down all hope. The very idea of meaning, of a conscious consideration is collateral from a destroyed life. A numbing of the soul has overtaken all. Millie turns a corner and hides for a moment. She stores her bit of stale bread into her pocket and clutches the locket close. She breaths on it, presses it to her lips and then to her own racing heart.

Millie runs to her basement shelter. She pauses as she nears the cloaked entrance, her fast glances reassuring that no one follows. She navigates over and under and through a maze until she sees the glimmer of a fire and the soft careful voices of a circle of other children. Millie enters and nods to the others. This small gathering is of five; quiet Jillian, jabber mouth Bob, soulful Henry, defiant Nan and she, Millie.

Millie pulls the few prizes from her day’s run and one by one drops the offerings into the small pile for the night’s dinner. She drops in the bit of bread, a small, bruised apple, a stick of gum, a crumbled candy bar. The efforts of the others include a roasting rat, a special treat, and more bits of stale and moldy bread. All placed in the center to be assessed and divided. Each of them has gathered what they can, every day and in every way though the meager heap that will be their dinner is hardly more than a few bites for each.

Millie then pulls out her prize. At first, she let it warm in her hand and, only after a bit of time does she open her hand and reveal the locket. While the others normally would grab and fight to assuage their hunger they look with awe at the locket. They note it seems to make Mille soften and quietly shine. They all felt a strange sensation, as though the taste of a loved delicacy filled their mouths as a memory awakened. Millie presented the locket on the palm of her hand, going from person to person. Each would linger to stroke it’s surface. Each touch by them seemed to feed something unspoken and deep. A period of quiet reflection followed. Some wiped away unexpected tears.

As the touched memories hovered in them the tranquil silence continued. That night their paltry meal of scraps provoked no rancor or complaint. After the meal and as they lay down to sleep, huddling close together for warmth, soulful Henry squeaks out to ask for a story. Quiet Jillian murmurs to hear of a time of sunshine, home and loving family. Jabber mouth Bob, chortles and presses for a tale of a great battle. Defiant Nan interrupts to demand a story of righteousness. Millie is quiet for a time. She begins to weep, at first quietly, but then as a wail. The others all follow suit.

As the tears soon run their course, the longing for something more rises up to lessen that pain of missing that consumes them. It rises up and seeks expression. Finally, Millie speaks. Her story is of family of a sort, of comrades facing a daunting enemy. She describes daily battles and triumphs. Millie continues to describe the heroes of her story and of their unique sweet qualities. The heroes she names are those of this family of sorts, of five, Quiet Jillian, Jabber Mouth Bob, Soulful Henry, Defiant Nan and Scout Millie.

As the fire dims and they snuggle closer together, Millie whispers to her new friend, her locket that opened her heart.