Post by 0 on Dec 4, 2017 1:29:35 GMT
He sneezed.
"Ub...grub!" the child grumbled, wiping a glob of thick mucus onto his sleeve.
He wasn't getting a cold now, was he?
Sitting alone in a house a few miles outside the capital city, the abnormally tall child was all bundled up in blankets and winter clothing, cracking open a can of peaches on the kitchen counter with a hammer.
The house was old and crooked, little more than a log cabin, and still showed substantial damage from a certain unspoken-of disaster that befell the continent back in spring of that year.
Only some of the destruction had been fixed up, and all rather shoddily at that.
It sat some ways off from a highway that was rarely used anymore, a narrow dirt road that wound through an overgrown forest.
The house sat in a small glade up on a stubby hill, a property that legally possessed no more than few acres, if even that, but sat just so in the middle of nowhere that it was nigh impossible to find the nearest property owners.
An old wooden shack sat rotting in the uncut grass, while the burbling of a muddy stream could be heard back behind the woods.
The weather had been holding up nicely since the summer, but temperatures had been steadily dropping for the past few weeks, and for the last couple months utilities had slowly been shut off one after the other.
First the electricity, then the heat; now only water remained, but who knew for how long...although the pipes were just as likely to freeze and burst before that happened.
Notices had been piling up in the mailbox, bills and foreclosure and all sorts of things he couldn't deign to understand.
After all: he was only nine.
He'd started using the letters for tinder; thank his parents for shunting him off to that wilderness survival camp that one year, eh?
Honestly, when he reflected on it, he figured it was amazing he'd made it this long.
But it was obviously because he was just that awesome.
His uncle had been missing ever since he stumbled back home from one futile night of ghost hunting, memories muddled and braindead ready for a good night's rest.
It was only upon waking that he'd realized he had the whole house to himself, with both his uncle and the time machine missing, alongside everything else that he'd previously seen in the subbasement (including...THOSE two).
It took him a while to come to terms with the fact that his uncle may be gone for good.
Done gone and ditched him, the bastard.
Now he had to ride a bicycle into town whenever he wanted food, and he was running low on forgotten funds.
Actually, that wasn't quite true: he'd been broke for a good while now.
The stored food he knew of in the cupboards and the fridge had long since run out or spoiled.
Some poking about the property had done him some good, however, leading him to a small storage space that had been tucked away in the closet of the guest bedroom that lay deep in the concrete basement.
There were plenty of canned goods in that inconceivably hidden pantry, full of food that could last an eternity--or at least a year.
There were also twinkies, but looking at them gave him a headache, so he decided to hold off on them until the absolute last moment.
So long as he rationed them he should be good through the winter at least.
Or half of it.
Assuming the water wasn't shut off, or the pipes didn't all freeze up.
Drowning him in his sleep.
Or hoping he didn't freeze to death.
The child growled as he hammered away at the can of peaches.
Eventually the tin lid popped up and he was able to peel it away, although not without some damage to the countertop.
How could a man stash so many cans and not have a single can opener?
What, had he hidden that, too?
With a sigh, he plopped himself down at the tiny kitchen table, and began poking away at the peaches with a crusty spoon.
Pulling the blankets around closer, he listened to the wind whistle through a window without glass.
Corn brown eyes stared boredly out through the square hole, his throat making a particularly loud gulp when he saw it: snow.
Some of the first few specks were now beginning to rain down.
Well, he was most definitely a goner for sure now...better finish up this terrible food right quick!
"Ub...grub!" the child grumbled, wiping a glob of thick mucus onto his sleeve.
He wasn't getting a cold now, was he?
Sitting alone in a house a few miles outside the capital city, the abnormally tall child was all bundled up in blankets and winter clothing, cracking open a can of peaches on the kitchen counter with a hammer.
The house was old and crooked, little more than a log cabin, and still showed substantial damage from a certain unspoken-of disaster that befell the continent back in spring of that year.
Only some of the destruction had been fixed up, and all rather shoddily at that.
It sat some ways off from a highway that was rarely used anymore, a narrow dirt road that wound through an overgrown forest.
The house sat in a small glade up on a stubby hill, a property that legally possessed no more than few acres, if even that, but sat just so in the middle of nowhere that it was nigh impossible to find the nearest property owners.
An old wooden shack sat rotting in the uncut grass, while the burbling of a muddy stream could be heard back behind the woods.
The weather had been holding up nicely since the summer, but temperatures had been steadily dropping for the past few weeks, and for the last couple months utilities had slowly been shut off one after the other.
First the electricity, then the heat; now only water remained, but who knew for how long...although the pipes were just as likely to freeze and burst before that happened.
Notices had been piling up in the mailbox, bills and foreclosure and all sorts of things he couldn't deign to understand.
After all: he was only nine.
He'd started using the letters for tinder; thank his parents for shunting him off to that wilderness survival camp that one year, eh?
Honestly, when he reflected on it, he figured it was amazing he'd made it this long.
But it was obviously because he was just that awesome.
His uncle had been missing ever since he stumbled back home from one futile night of ghost hunting, memories muddled and braindead ready for a good night's rest.
It was only upon waking that he'd realized he had the whole house to himself, with both his uncle and the time machine missing, alongside everything else that he'd previously seen in the subbasement (including...THOSE two).
It took him a while to come to terms with the fact that his uncle may be gone for good.
Done gone and ditched him, the bastard.
Now he had to ride a bicycle into town whenever he wanted food, and he was running low on forgotten funds.
Actually, that wasn't quite true: he'd been broke for a good while now.
The stored food he knew of in the cupboards and the fridge had long since run out or spoiled.
Some poking about the property had done him some good, however, leading him to a small storage space that had been tucked away in the closet of the guest bedroom that lay deep in the concrete basement.
There were plenty of canned goods in that inconceivably hidden pantry, full of food that could last an eternity--or at least a year.
There were also twinkies, but looking at them gave him a headache, so he decided to hold off on them until the absolute last moment.
So long as he rationed them he should be good through the winter at least.
Or half of it.
Assuming the water wasn't shut off, or the pipes didn't all freeze up.
Drowning him in his sleep.
Or hoping he didn't freeze to death.
The child growled as he hammered away at the can of peaches.
Eventually the tin lid popped up and he was able to peel it away, although not without some damage to the countertop.
How could a man stash so many cans and not have a single can opener?
What, had he hidden that, too?
With a sigh, he plopped himself down at the tiny kitchen table, and began poking away at the peaches with a crusty spoon.
Pulling the blankets around closer, he listened to the wind whistle through a window without glass.
Corn brown eyes stared boredly out through the square hole, his throat making a particularly loud gulp when he saw it: snow.
Some of the first few specks were now beginning to rain down.
Well, he was most definitely a goner for sure now...better finish up this terrible food right quick!
