She Said, She Said Tomorrow. I'll fix it tomorrow, she said. Like always. So I accepted that and forgot about it. But when tomorrow became today, and I saw that it still wasn't done, I got upset. Very upset. I confronted her, noting how she promised -- PROMISED -- she'd take care of it today. Naturally, she was defensive, and, looking back, justifiably so. But in the heat of that moment -- where I wasn't thinking 100% rationally -- I grabbed her and thrust her toward that...thing. Thankfully, it was all over in a few minutes. The screaming turned to whimpers as the sound of bones crunching and flesh tearing became the only sounds in the small room. My daughter wasn't hungry anymore. For now.

The end The scorched landscape offers nothing as far as the eye can see. I have enough oxygen for another 6 hours. Unless I find a functioning outpost to refill, I'll suffocate. But as I look out on the wasteland, not having seen any sign of #life in the last four years, I pause and think: it's not much, but it's all mine.