Food

I'm hungry.

You know the sound your stomach makes, the one that sounds like an offbeat tribal music. That's what my stomach has been saying to me, over and over again for the past few days. If it wasn't for the sharp pain, I might have enjoyed it. It certainly beats listening to silence. 

Well, not silence in the technical sense, wherein the only sound you hear is the beating of your own heart. Something like the silence after the atomic bomb decimated Nagasaki. Or a better example would be, the silence after a small rural village gets burned, its people brutally massacred by a greedy warlord. The vibrant noise of the people replaced with the rhythmic buzzing of thousands of flies.

That kind of silence. 

The peace that comes after complete destruction and carnage.

Nobody knows how or where it started. Before all this, when the crisis was just starting, everybody had their own theories. Some said it was something foreign. Brought by this junkie who died in the middle of the flight. Some thought it was a terrorist attack. A biological weapon released in the city. Others speculated it was some kind of mutated virus. While others proclaimed it was judgment from God.

Whatever it was, no one got the chance to prove anyone wrong.

Because in a matter of hours, everyone was running for their lives. The roads were blocked by heavy traffic. Every person who had a car, or managed to steal any type of vehicle, was trying to get out of the city. In just a few hours, the city was united in celebrating the festival of survival.

There were people running in all directions. Some to get away. Some to catch up with others. All the stores were being looted. You could hear glass breaking left and right. A fiery explosion here and there. Every car was honking its horn. Important people had their sirens on, thinking the others would just let them through. And the screams. Anyone who got caught always lets out this high pitched shriek. A last attempt to affirm their life. Then silence.

In the end, no one survived. The few who managed to get out of the city thought they were safe. But the epidemic was everywhere. Any place occupied by people was engulfed in chaos. Wherever man made their mark, death soon followed.

I've been walking for several days now. Trying to find food or any sign of life. But everything I find is either burned or being decomposed by flies and maggots. I see body parts everywhere. Anywhere I look, I see human jigsaw pieces. Like right now. I see something which I think is a woman's leg crushed under a taxi. I assume it's a woman's because I see a tattoo of a butterfly. Well, half a butterfly. On the windshield of the taxi, a torso. Again, I'm guessing it belonged to a woman. I'm assuming the boob that's lying a few inches from my feet was attached to that torso.

Fingers. Sometimes with rings. An arm. A forearm. A squished eyeball. Intestines. A whole leg. Half a leg. And don't forget about the severed human heads. In different types of fashion. A bald head without a nose. A semi charred brunette with only one eye. There's even a wrinkly old head which seemed to be peacefully asleep.

And the blood. There's dried blood everywhere. The city looks like it was painted by some goth teenager. Black, red, and grey. Or if Frank Miller designed the universe.

This city is finished.

I'm walking towards this high class subdivision. I've seen several subdivisions while I was scrounging the city for food. But I never went in any of them. This subdivision however is another case. I can almost feel a sense of hope.  

No, not feel. It's like I can smell it. 

I might be going insane here. I'm perceiving hope as a scent. On the other hand, I haven't eaten anything for the past few days. It might just be starvation kicking in.

I muster what's left of my strength. I begin to quicken my pace. Which isn't really saying much since I'm almost dragging my legs just to move forward. I need to hurry up because darkness is starting to envelop my surroundings. And it's really difficult to search for food in the dark.  

Then I trip over something. I can't see what it is but I can already guess. Judging by its scent and the flies buzzing around me, it must be another body part. I try getting up but I'm nearly out of strength. I face the sky, lying on cold, sticky concrete. Watching the stars wink at me. I'm now ready to join them. I start to think about my life. Flashes of memories zoom in and out of my head. Then I begin to close my eyes. Before I completely shut the world, I notice something on my left. It looks like a really big star. That's really close by. And one that doesn't twinkle. I turn my head and suddenly, I am invigorated by its radiance.

It's a light bulb!

I stand up. After trying for several minutes. My mind is already growing crazy with anticipation. The tribal music of my stomach quickens its tempo, doubling its volume. It's like I'm caught in a trance. All thoughts erased. It's just me and food. As I walk towards the source of light, I see three shadows moving around the house. 

Yes. It's confirmed.

Finally. 

Food.   

Pop Songs

Tick tick on the clock

One, two, three, four; uno, dos, tres, quatro...

It's friday, friday; gotta get down on friday

And I got my hands up, they're playing my song

Boom, badoom, boom bass; yeah that's that super bass

Yeah! I've got the moves like jagger

And I'm sexy and I know it

Because that's how it's supposed to be; living young and wild and free

Even though it's not about the money, money, money

I could really use a wish right now

Because I still want to be a billionaire

And fly like a G6

So I can have the time of my life

As I whip my hair back and forth

Hey soul sister

Baby, baby, baby oh

There's nobody, nobody but you

When the DJ got us fallin' in love

And we danced the night away

Together at the top; like a pyramid

I know you belong with me

Cause you are the only exception

And I don't want to walk this earth, if I gotta do it solo

I'll never be the same if we ever meet again

Oh na na, what's my name?

But I know I have never felt like a plastic bag.

*poker face*