Satisfaction

As a child, I wanted to be the first man on Mars.

I learned, as I grew, that this was unfeasible. I adjusted.

I did musical theatre, comedy, and wrote. It wasn’t what I’d wanted as a child, but I’d put aside childish things.

I loved what I was doing. I was satisfied.

In the early days of the outbreak, I was bitten, and infected.

No more theatre, comedy or writing. Now I try to sate my hunger for human flesh.

But like childish things before, I’ve put aside human things. I love the new things I’m doing.

I’m satisfied.

As Good as it Gets

Is this really as good as it gets?

I asked myself this as I sat on the lawn chair in front of my home, after a day of work. The day was over now, and I had three days off coming up.

Languidly, I sipped the beer I just opened. Shards of ice hit my tongue as I drank.

I took a deep pull on the cigarette I had in my left hand.

From behind the building across the way from mine, the sun slowly started rising, painting the sky in red and gold.

Yes, I smiled, it truly is.