When eschaton hit I was in Colorado. Much like Ish in Earth Abides I missed the greater drama which scoured the world of ninety nine percent of its population. During the chaos I was asleep in my basement.

By the time I finally climbed back up to the quiet earth the season was turning towards winter despite the leaves never having fallen in the meantime. Suicidal trees. Eventually made my way to a supermarket, which already had the scent of decay, where a handful of survivors were pushing carts around, shovelling food into them and heading to the checkout line. A lone checker was writing down prices, adding them up and requesting payment.
This made me furious. I don't know if I said this aloud or merely ranted about it in my head but basically wondered why capitalism wasn't dead and these people were perpetuating it as a cargo cult with cash which was, and is (commentary on fiscal politics or just someone who has learned to dislike capitalism? you be the judge, gentle reader), largely meaningless in a world which truly belongs to the .01% of survivors.
Outside of Colorado College there are tall reedy constructions which look like wind-sculpted houses. Ended up living in one of those far away from the grave city of Colorado Springs. The walls were covered in sheets for insulation and doors. I found myself fortunate to have discovered a small group of people with the same mindset in the previous <p>aragraph. We trundled through hip-deep snow and freely shared our goods amongst ourselves living in an enlightened but fairly immature commune. What made me leave was the curiousity about my friends and if any of them had actually been among the fortunate.

Back in Colorado Springs I set up a diesel generator so I was the only one with electricity which made me feel like a king in the empire of candles and oil lamps. Now I sat on the curb drinking one of the last few Guinness Extra Stouts thinking about writing "Now I sat on the curb" while watching two blonde and barefoot girls walk endlessly around the block. Over the rustle of leaves and the breeze I could hear them talking about how most girls make a lot of money selling their bodies the very idea of which wracked them with laughter then excited whispers presumably about giving it a shot.
I wondered if Brian had survived somewhere out on the east coast.
The girls were walking past me again and since it was their second circuit they noticed the large man with alcohol on his breath so they took up a faster pace. I lurched to my feet still feeling the fading back pain which haunts me in waking life and started walking towards the dark campus of Colorado College to head them off at the pass. They were much more clever than I because they walked past a bunch of grade school kids around a volleyball net. One of them shouted "Start!" and a game began in earnest. My path was now blocked by shrieking and laughing kids playing the game while I walked slower and slower so not to knock any of them down. I disappointedly watched them climb a ledge and continue their stroll suddenly realizing that I was dreaming and how if I really wanted to I could imagine myself catching up with them even though they were farther and farther away from me.