my reaction to the excessive land development in and around our new home is causing me to indulge in fairly frequent post-apocalyptic fantasies. as i return home from a long walk in the dark, i imagine i'm completely alone...
...the almost tangible chorus of cicadas and frogs fills the air as i walk in the perfect darkness. i watch my step, less for fear of snakes (if one gets me, so be it) and more for fear of tripping: the expanse of the parking lot has lost its black perfection and the asphalt bulges where green and growing things are taking back what is rightfully theirs. a snake bite would be fatal but quick; a sprain could cripple me, render me immobile. i think back to the night out with my ladies all those years ago - wine, fancy cheese, and deeply engaging conversation about what to do in case of a zombie apocalypse. sl told us she had it on good authority (from a military man, i think) that the best way to survive is to keep moving and so i keep moving - gleaning my strange life choices from a conversation had over wine with friends long since turned to dust.
i don't miss other people. i certainly don't miss the constant noise of cars and airplanes, air conditioners and leaf blowers. i don't miss the endless tangled cables that enabled our blinking buzzing technology. dear gods above, i don't miss the paperwork! i walked by an office once - glass wall shattered by a tree that came down during one of the summer storms, and one glimpse of the papers littering the floor made me nauseous - how did i survive all those years without succumbing to the endless stream of correspondence, always of the utmost importance? now the only paper i have is this book in which i'm writing, though for whom? i doubt (and fervently hope) that i really am the last person alive and my words will have the decency to be lost when i am finally lost.
i miss warm food - what i wouldn't give for a juicy hamburger! i scavenge the stuff in cans and it's better than nothing, believe me, i'm grateful, but if there was one thing civilization was good for it was food. i do miss my friends and family, but their memories are so deeply etched in my mind that i can bring them up at will, converse with them, ask advice, seek solace. perhaps what i miss most is being touched - short of taming a racoon or another furry beast, it's not likely i'll be getting a cuddle from anything or anyone anytime soon. or ever. still, i can't complain - i got to have my wish: i got to witness the end of the anthropocene.