I’ve been alone for weeks. How many weeks, I don’t know, the days escape me.
Sometimes I don’t bother to get out of bed, and by bed, I mean the broken rubble I call home. There is nothing left that is whole, it’s all in tatters just like my t-shirt that is hanging on by a thread. No buildings, no plants, no food. I scavenge for days to find a can of baked beans that has exploded open and half the contents gone.
Not that it matters, before long I’ll die from radiation poisoning. No one can survive a nuclear attack, at least not in the long run. I guess I’m the last of the human race and we’re almost extinct.
I crest a hill and there he is on the other side. He freezes, clutching a can of food. He’s completely naked but covered in dirt. He looks a couple years younger than me, maybe fifteen. And he is the ugliest straggly kid I’ve ever seen. His nose is too big for his face which is covered in pimples.
Is this god’s plan for the continuation of the human race? One girl, one boy? I wonder. A post-apocalyptic love affair?
The wind causes the last thread on my top to break and my breasts are revealed. Instantly his exposed penis gives a tweak and starts getting hard. Oh god, no!
‘I’m infertile,’ I lie, as I grab the food out of his hands and storm away.
