FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

As a foreword to this short-story I would like to quickly give a rundown of what readers should expect. This story does not have any NSFW aspects to it, although it does involve a variety of mature themes and language, including racial slurs, which some may rightly take offense to (I take no pride in using them, but I feel it accurately portrays the character's personality). This story will have an open ending; it is entirely intentional. I may choose to continue it in the future although I believe that is unlikely.

From what I can tell, there are quite a few well written steamy hot sex stories currently available on this site. If that is what you are looking for in this tale, I'm sorry but you will have to look elsewhere.

This is one of my first stories I have ever posted or shared publicly and as a result I'm sure it will be riddled with errors and incongruities. I ask that you please let me know if I have made any such glaring or obvious errors (preferably in a respectable manner) and I will do my best to remedy them in the future.

As with many stories on this website this tale is meant for people over 18/21 and may contain elements that some readers find offensive, including but not limited to the following:

-Furries

-Homosexual Relationships

-Heterosexual Relationships

-Gore (Both blood and Presidential Candidates)

-Sex (Of any kind)

-Abuse (Verbal, Physical and Emotional)

-The Color Blue (Whether it is Indigo, Teal or even Navy)

If you find any or all of the above list to your disliking I would ask that you not scroll down or read any further. To the remainder of the folks, please enjoy and I would love to know what you think.

All characters are fictional and any names or they may share with persons, both fictional and non-fictional are purely coincidental.

All characters and fictional locations are the intellectual property of banditfromtheeast © 2017

All Rights Reserved

At Home in the Clouds

The beans were looking good this time around, I'd say they'd be ready to pick in about a weeks' time. I'm glad the blight didn't continue on from last harvest, it felt like such a waste burning all those plants. The corn seems to be doing alright as well, probably a few weeks out though, but I'm not really that excited. I hate corn. I wouldn't have planted any if it wasn't for Marcy.

"Make sure your diet consists of a wide variety of foods. While you may be getting enough calories, you still could become malnourished"

I think I might grind it up into flour. She probably wouldn't approve, but I don't think I'd end up eating it otherwise. I wonder if I could find a recipe for corn loaf. Is that a thing? I think that's a thing. I'm pretty sure I've had it before. I wonder if Felicity's has a corn-based recipe book? I'm definitely going to need something to make, otherwise I'll be stuck with corn-on-the-cob for foreseeable future. That doesn't sit well with me. I really hate corn.

The peas were alright, along with the potatoes and carrots. I think the squash is fine too, although it might be a little early to tell. If the squash does well, I think I'll try planting watermelon. I wonder how long the seeds are good for? The package I found is definitely not new.

Last but not least the mangoes. I think the trees are finally fruiting, took them long enough though. I wonder what variety they planted. With my luck, some inedible kind.

Well I think that finishes up tower one, and before noon too! I'd like to think that it's because I'm an efficient worker who has fully optimized his daily routine. But I know that's a lie. I finished my last book yesterday, which means:

A) I'm not slacking off reading while I should be working,

and

B) I need to get some more books, which I can't do until I finish my work today.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not lazy ... well I'm a little lazy. But I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty (Not like I have too much of choice these days). However subsistence agriculture isn't exactly the most glamorous career in the world. I miss the days when you could just pop down the block and grab something from one of the street vendors. The one on the corner just before the beach had really good dumplings. Pork, beef, lamb ... you name it and they'd stuff it in dough and fry it up real nice like.

Gurgle ... grumble ... gurgle ....

I suppose with all this talk food, it was inevitable that this was going to happen.

"I think I'm going to stop for lunch" I announced to the mango tree in the centre court of the garden. It gave me a stern and rather judgmental look before I turned away from it. I didn't need it's permission to take a break, although I did secretly wish it treated me less like a slave and more like a friend.

I sat on the bench closest to the edge, facing out towards the ocean. The beach was only a couple blocks away but from the 32nd floor, it was actually a little difficult to see it. You ended up looking over it and out into the big blue waters beyond.

It was pretty warm today, and not a cloud in the sky. I was probably sweating and complaining a little more that I should be. I wasn't technically a native of the island, but I had lived here for the last 30 some odd years, essentially my entire life. By now I really should be used to this weather.

I took a good swig from my water bottle and opened up the plastic containers containing my lunch. Some pea pods, carrots and a few sandwiches which contained thick sliced tomato, lettuce and a dried and fried lentil/bean patty. The bread was a little denser than I'd like but I still couldn't get a consistent rise out of my dough. Those natural yeasts are just so much more particular than the little packages you used to be able to get from the store.

I looked out and listened to the faint crashing of the waves on the shore while I ate my lunch. I ran out of sea salt a while back so inhaling the fresh ocean air while I ate was the next best thing. I still have lots of regular table salt but it's just not the same.

With lunch wolfed down (probably a little faster than it should have been) and with the plastic containers stowed back in my pack, I went to check on the utilities. First were the solar panels. I carefully went down each row with a bucket of freshwater, courtesy of the former outdoor rooftop swimming pool now 50,000 gallon water reservoir, and washed and wiped down the panels. The sea air is apparently corrosive and I'd like to have these things last as long as possible, so a little TLC goes a long way ... I hope.

Once they're clean, and I've made sure that they're still secured to the roof, I go and take a look at the drip irrigation system hooked up to the outdoor swimming pool/ reservoir. The pool is set into an elevated sub-structure so it is higher than the crops, which in turn allows it to be entirely fed by gravity. Malakhi set the system up, he was an engineer in his home country before coming here for his retirement in the sun. He lived in unit 2205 with his wife. I think she had gone home to visit her family around the time when things started to get bad. Malakhi died on day 196. He just didn't wake up in the morning. We cremated his remains.

With everything looking good I head back inside, making sure to bid farewell to the centre court mango tree before I departed. It replied with an ill-fitting racial slur, and we both laughed a little, although it made me a bit uncomfortable. As I entered, I took a look over the indoor pool to make sure that there was still water in it. Peter had rigged it up to feed into the building's water lines. With no water or power from the city, the water tower that the building used to use was now long since empty. Peter lived in 1401 and was employed by the condo board as a live in maintenance man. He was a really nice guy, was extremely reliable and made a lot of friends with people around the building. As a result we decided to pay him a salary much higher than average in order to keep him around. I think it was a really great deal with obvious mutual benefits. Peter died on day 84 from a fever. We cremated his remains.

The water level in the reservoir was more than adequate, it had been raining quite routinely in the evenings for the past week and we had set it up to funnel most of the runoff water into one of the two pools. I entered into the main storage area on the enclosed roof section for the last of today's chores. The batteries were kept in here and I needed to make sure that they are both:

A) Working properly

and

B) Not going to burn the building down.

We had already lost a few to time, and I was sure that the remainder were far into the back half of their lifespans. I did my best to keep them going by keeping the room free of dust and water. I also overrode the maximum charge to about 70%, I didn't have documentation supporting this but I remember doing something similar with an old laptop I had had at one point.

I dusted and wiped down the various components in the room and sealed the place back up. I was more than a little thankful that the condo complex really promoted the "off-the-grid" mentality to its residents when it was being designed and built. I mean, in the grand scheme of things the few dozen panels and batteries would probably do almost nothing to off-set the 300+ units in the building if they were all occupied, but as that is no longer the case, it works fantastically for me.

Finally with my chores done, I admittedly felt like a child on Christmas morning. I couldn't wait to go down to _Felicity's _and grab some new stories. Stopping by my current residence on the 30th floor I swapped out my work-bag with my go-bag. The large penthouse unit had an enormous ocean-view balcony and I couldn't help to steal another quick glance out to the empty sea and vacant beach a few blocks away. It's been awhile since I last dipped my toes in the water or rolled around in the soft sand. Those were better days.

I was halfway out the door when I remembered. I always had this problem, it had just been too quiet for too long and I was becoming complacent. The combination of time and silence can make you lose focus to the dangers around you. Although how long had it been since I saw one of them? I'll have to check my notes ... when I come back from shopping.

I popped open the coat closet and after a brief internal debate, I selected an old Colt 1911 with two extra magazines. I ensured that everything was loaded and that the safety was engaged. I put the holster around my waist and locked the gun in. Now satisfied, I exited and walked to the open elevator. After inserting the operators' master key (which I keep in my go bag) and turning the compartment on, I pressed the button for the 5th floor. The doors slowly close and the car descends.

A half minute later and I'm arriving on the 5th floor. The doors open with a gentle ding from the car, and I quickly remove my key before strolling out onto the white, but slightly dusty marble tile floor. It's been quite a few weeks since I've been down this low so I decide to take a walk around the floor before going to _Felicity's. _The bright afternoon sunlight streams through the windows and I stop frequently to look out at the empty streets.

Abandoned cars, buses, bikes and more are littered all over the once clean avenues. A few plants are starting to grow through the pavement in places but the infrastructure seems to be holding up rather well otherwise. None of the windows on this floor seem to have been broken and all of the commercial offices still appear to be sealed. I head out to the overhang that looks down on the inner courtyard. Retail shops and the like are located on the bottom three floors, offices on the next two followed by condos on everything up from there.

I grab an empty can from the pile next to the railing and toss it down to the bottom floor. It impacts loudly and bounces around a bit before it comes to a stop. The echos last another ten or so seconds before the silence returns. Casually leaning on the railing looking down, I wait, and try to listen to anything moving around. A few minutes pass with nothing and I try it again ... once more, nothing.

Feeling pretty confident that I'm alone at this point I head to the east side stairwell. I unlock the fire door and prop it open. I take a quick glance inside at the missing flights of stairs before retrieving the ladder lying on the floor outside of the stairwell. I maneuver it into the well and use it to fill in the gap to the 4th floor.

We decided early on that we would use the 5th floor as a sort of airlock, we got together one afternoon and tore out the stairs to both the 4th and 6th floors. Now there was no way to go higher or lower without a ladder, but you could still look down to the bottom levels to see if it was safe before heading out. It was Ivan's idea, without him we wouldn't have lasted as long as we have. He did something relating to security for some foreign government, which one in particular I don't know. Ivan never talked too much about what he did as a career prior to coming to the island. But after watching how he handled himself as a bouncer at one of the local bars, I'm pretty sure he was highly trained. I also wouldn't have been surprised if he had killed people. At his old job that is, not at the bar ... although there were a few there that probably had it coming. He lived in 1708 and participated in all of the condo pot-lucks. He made an absolutely criminal lemon square that he refused to divulge the recipe to. He decided to try and find a working yacht or aircraft so we could get off the island. We tried to discourage it as we still held out hope for rescue, but he was stubborn, and on day 39 he left. We never saw him again.

I suppose I was in dangerous territory now, I hadn't been down to the lower levels in quite some time, probably a few months at least. If I was smart I'd have my gun out, but I'm the first to admit that I'm not an intelligent guy. The large windows on the south side of the building let in a decent amount of light, but I brought my little windup flashlight as well. Felicity's was on the 3rd floor on the opposite side so I had a few minutes of walking to get there. I passed the old camera store, the internet cafe and real estate office. There were a few dozen listings still hanging in the windows, a few for units on the upper floors of our building. I couldn't help but stop and chuckle at the outrageous prices they were asking for at the time. I was lucky enough to get in early, but those crazy tourists began buying up the units and renting them out. Prices sky-rocketed and most of the units ended up being vacant 90% of the time.

The rustic looking oaken doors under the old pub-style hanging sign were unlocked. I opened one to the friendly chime of bells and walked into _Felicity's. _The delightful musky and stale smell of books hit me and I couldn't help but smile. They had picked this unit perfectly and made sure that it was not only functional as a store but an inviting cozy environment as well. The vast amounts of natural light being brought through the primarily oak and stone decored shop made you feel like crawling up on one of the oversized couches and plunging your soul into a new fantasy tale.

It hasn't really changed all that much since this all started. Nobody loots a book store, well I suppose nobody but me. Also, I guess for all you do-gooders out there, technically I'm not stealing. Felicity said I could take and use whatever I wanted, and I've done just that.

I perused for a great deal of time before I made my selections. Some authors I knew, some I'd never heard of, and couple recipe books. Unfortunately nothing purely corn related, but a few vegan and vegetarian volumes had some different ideas. I packed up what I could in my pack and grabbed a bag from behind the counter for the rest.

I don't know if it was the combination of the smells, the lights and environment but my brain pulled up an old memory as I walked up to the front counter. It was when I first came into the store and I met Felicity and Mortimer for the first time. They put so much effort into this place, trying to make it as good as they knew it should be. As a fellow entrepreneur I could respect that. In the end they absolutely succeeded. This place was always busy yet they still always found time to meet, greet and chat up every customer. My venture, while successful in its own way, just couldn't stack up to this place. Different business environments could be an excuse, but I knew there was more to it than that.

I left the cozy bookstore and went back to the stairs. I stopped as I started to head up to the 4th floor and decided to just leave my book bag here for now. The recent trip down memory lane has me feeling nostalgic, and I think I want to see what other sorts of things I can drag up from the past.

I wandered through the mall, past empty electronic stores, and cell phone kiosks that had been flipped over and raided. Why was it always the electronics that were looted? If the world as you know it was coming to an end, why the electronics? Electricity is not usually something that stays on for very long in an emergency, it's kind of a short lived gain if you ask me. I suppose they might be in a place like I am where one actually has power but I'd think that would be the exception rather than the norm.

I stopped at the video rental store. I remember staring at it when I first moved in to the building. Why is this here? Who still rents physical movies? Well the answer to both of those questions is tourists. I suppose it's less hassle to rent a tiny DVD player and a few movies for a few days than to sign up for a cellular data plan. The reception on the island was never really good to begin with, or so I'm told by some of the foreigners. I never found a problem with it.

I wandered through the much darker store and picked out a few films with my aid of my flashlight. I know there's a DVD player in one of the units upstairs so I just grab a few discs. On my way out I take a peak in one of the store rooms and to my pleasant surprise there are still a few bags of chips and snacks lying around. The supermarket on the first floor was fully cleaned out before things even started to get bad in earnest, and I suppose that nobody looks for food in a video rental shop. Hell I don't think I'd actually ever come in here before.

I threw a few packages of chips and cheese-puffs (I made sure to leave behind the popcorn, gross...) into a plastic bag along with a bottle of soda pop and headed for the exit. I suppose they're way past their expiration dates but they've been sealed all this time. A cursory smell would probably tell me if they're decent or not.

I dropped my new found goodies by the stairs and headed down to the first floor. The large barricades of benches and other various pieces of furniture still seem to be sealing the main entrances, although I know there are several other smaller doors around the building, including another large one in the supermarket. After a while Cog and I sealed just off access to the supermarket from the mall using the stores' large metal security grate. There just wasn't anything left inside and it was one less direction we had to worry about.

I sat by the central fountain, now dry and empty, for a few minutes looking around for old times' sake. So many memories for so many different people started around this funny little statue of a few birds in a row-boat. I chuckled a little bit, I just couldn't help myself. I still can't believe this was the piece that they decided to put in.

I left the courtyard, went past the food court and walked into one of the smaller side hallways where I ended up visiting my own child of sorts. Well ... former child I suppose.

You Know They'll be Jealous Tour Co.

Derek came up with the name, and I thought it was fitting. We ran it together, alternating between going out on tours and watching the storefront. It was a pretty successful venture if you ask me, but Derek always had bigger dreams. More employees, more tours, more ... everything I suppose. We probably would have gotten there eventually, had this whole thing not started. It did start though and I guess that ended that dream.

I opened the door and walked into the store. Probably only a thousand square feet or so, with all the walls lined with various brochures and tourist information. Pictures of the native wildlife from around the island along with photos from old outings were plastered on the backboard behind the counter. Everything was where it was the last time I was here. Not much you can loot out of a tour company.

After a bit of indulgent reminiscing, I left the small store. I wonder what ended up happening to Derek? He's probably dead now of course, but how long did he last? I think the last time I saw him was when we closed up that Tuesday night. He took the minibus home as he had an 8:00 am trip out to the beaches on the far side of the island the next morning. I tried calling him after hearing about what happened overnight but I never could get through.

I think I had had enough of the past for one day so I figured a quick errand for the present would be a nice ending to the trip. I headed to Nature's Treasures, it was large garden centre of sorts, positioned on the opposite side as the supermarket. Shrubs, seeds, trees and all the bells and whistles you could think of that related to working with flora. It had been a while since I had put down some fertilizer on the fields, and I figured since I was down here why not grab a few bags.

Like the video store, nobody had bothered to loot this place. Well, I suppose nobody other than the residents. Who in their right mind would steal saplings and cuttings during an emergency? Our building had a community garden ever since day one, so it just seemed to make sense to those of us living here to expand it a bit. You know, hopefully try and become more self-sufficient. With the beautiful climate and essentially eternal growing season it worked out better than we could have ever hoped in the long run, although very few of us got to see that point.

I grabbed two 20 lb bags and headed back to the stairs, the sun was already beginning to lower itself in the sky which made the mall seem rather dim in the fading light. It took four trips to get everything to the top of the ladder where I did a brief double check of my gear. Then I pulled it up and placed it on the floor next to the stairwell.

It was on the 19th day when Felicity and Mortimer decided to make a run down to Nature's Treasures to grab a few bags full of seeds for our new and improved rooftop "Farm". Everything seemed to have finally started coming together and we were ready to face our new challenges head on as a group. We were confident, which made us foolish.

Eric, who had made a trip downstairs the previous day, had forgotten to pull the ladder up behind him when he returned upstairs. Some of them managed to climb up onto the 5th floor. It looked like Felicity and Mortimer had only gotten about ten feet from the elevator when they got them.

It took Cog, Ivan and myself six hours to clear out, make safe and clean up the 5th floor. We knew something had gone wrong after we didn't hear from them by lunchtime, so we had gone down to see what we could do. We saw what had happened, both to them and the ladder. We dragged up the ladder, and wiped up what remained of their bodies using a beach towel and a garbage bag. There was less than 15lbs of material recovered, and that was between the two of them. We cremated everything we could find.

Eric was transplanting some tomato plants in his unit when we approached him and told him what happened. He didn't say anything or ask any questions when we explained what we had come across. He apologized to each us individually and excused himself; he needed some fresh air to process what had just occurred. The remaining three of us stood in his living room; I don't remember what we were talking about. I think I was still in shock and just blankly stared out the window. I remember watching as Eric calmly vaulted over the balcony railing and disappeared into the low clouds below. Eric lived on the 28th floor. We didn't bother looking for remains.

I left the fertilizer out in the hallway, I could put it away later. I went into the fridge and took out what I suppose was going to be dinner for the evening. I heated up a few of the fried bean patties and steamed some frozen vegetables. I'm not exactly a gourmet chef but I think it would be decent enough. While the vegetables were cooking I threw together another batch of bread dough. Thankfully everyone including the foreigners had some essential baking ingredients in their own units. I could and did "borrow" them quite frequently. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when I finally run out of sugar. I've admittedly got a bit of a sweet tooth and I still haven't figured out the answer to that problem yet. On the positive side at the current rate of consumption my cursory math says I've got at least a decade of the white gold left.

I always leave the dough out on the counter, it'll stay there overnight to hopefully gather some fungal friends to help puff it up. Dinner ended up being alright, but I'm a little too excited about my new stories to really pay much attention to it. The sky is darkening and the clouds are coming in. It'll rain again this evening.

I feel the rumble while I'm washing up in the kitchen and I move to the living room so nothing sharp can fall on me. The island is on a fault line, but it usually is fairly inactive. The shaking stops after a few seconds. I wait ten minutes before going back to what I was doing.

Once the kitchen is back up to par, I start sorting the books into my "Library". It consists of three of the bedrooms in this four bedroom penthouse, with some additional overflow that has spread into the living area. I pick one that looks interesting and head up to the roof, grabbing one of the bags of fertilizer as I go.

Cog and I hauled up a full living room suite worth of furniture onto the patio near the indoor pool. We used to sit up here and watch the storms come forth and crash into the city. It's still my favorite place to read. The large primarily plexiglass and steel structure makes it nearly as bright as the outdoors. I turn on a few of the small standing lamps around the large and soft sofa and dig into my new found book. I prefer the cozy dim lighting to the large fluorescent ones hanging from the ceiling. I start to doze off to the sound of the rain pattering against the windows along with the slow trickle of water being diverted into the pool. A small aftershock hits and it slowly rocks the couch back and forth. By the time it ceases I'm already asleep.

When I wake in the morning, I realize where I am. It wasn't the first time I'd fallen asleep here and I'm sure it won't be the last. I was mildly annoyed at myself as I didn't finish my evening routine yesterday. I got up and stretched, and became a little self conscious when I noticed that the centre court mango tree was watching me. When it realized that I saw it, it rudely gestured at me. I returned the motion in kind.

I went down to my unit and entered my log from the previous day. I hoped I hadn't forgotten anything since this really should have been done last night. I did remember to look back at some of the previous dates; there were some questions I had yesterday that I wanted answered. I got what I needed and realized that today was a special day. I would have to commemorate somehow.

I dug around in the vegetarian and vegan cookbooks and found a nice new brownie recipe. I think there still was some cocoa powder lying around here somewhere, it's not exactly something that you tended to use very frequently. After searching my unit I came up bare. I'd have to look as I did today's chores.

Today, like most others, started in the gym located on the 25th floor. I rode one of the bikes, ran on the treadmill and lifted free weights for about an hour. I was probably in the best shape of my life right now, and that's not exactly something to be proud of. Marcy was the one who always pressed us to eat healthy and exercise. She was a dietician or nutritionist. I'm not sure which one is the legitimate one. But she was the one that was real, she actually went to school for it. Real school too, not some weekend class at a community centre.

She also was a huge proponent of the condo gym and lobbied (quite successfully I might add) to have a fully equipped high grade facility. She taught all of us how to eat and exercise properly to ensure that we remained healthy in the long run. She showed us a few of her old textbooks and I still use them as reference material. She lived in 604 although she quickly moved up to 1909 when things went bad. She had depression issues that the rest of us never knew about. Cog found her on day 134 after she didn't meet us for breakfast. I helped him clean up the bathroom and we kept the note she left between us both. We didn't tell Malakai what we had found, but I'm sure he could tell and never asked us about it. We cremated her remains wrapped up in her shower curtain.

After the gym I took a nice hot shower and ate a full breakfast. Beans, peas, strawberries and hash browns. I used a bit of an all-season cooking spice I had found to coat the potatoes. It was alright but tasted a little too much like table salt. It was a good meal though and I followed it by preparing sandwiches for lunch with the last of the old loaf of bread. I threw the new dough in the oven and set the cooking timer before heading out for today's chores.

The schedule today had me entirely in tower two, the identical sister complex of tower one that I currently reside in. There is a sky-walk that connects both at the 15th floor. I make sure to keep the doors locked on both sides just in case.

It's sunny again as I pass through the bridge, I stop for a few minutes looking out at the empty beach. The waves are pretty aggressive today, I'm sure if there were any surfers left that's where they'd be. I pressed on and went past the wind turbine installed on the outside of the glass structure. It had long since seized up and from the beginning was probably more for show than actual power generation.

I went up to the roof and began working on the fields of wheat and sunflowers occupying most of the open space. I spread the fertilizer around after I carefully removed any invasive plants trying to root in my pasture. I noted that some of the irrigation tubing would probably have to been reworked in the near future. One of the support structures that held the plastic tubes over the wheat looked like they were starting to buckle. If I was smart I would have fixed it today, but as I've said before, I'm not really intelligent ... and also slightly lazy. Even if it fails I still have 90% of the field and thus plenty of food. I'm sure somebody has had similar famous last words before.

One everything was all set to go, I stopped under Palm tree located in the centre court garden. I ate a small snack of strawberries while we had a nice discussion about the economics of vacation time in a post-apocalyptic future. My argument was that people eventually needed some down time thus a tourism industry would exist. The tree on the other hand disagreed and insisted that the scarcity of resources immediately following the down-turn of society would necessitate full and consistent employment in the agriculture, resource acquisition and security fields. It made some solid logical points and I conceded. It then brought up how it was unhealthy of me to continue to be living with the rude and abusive mango tree in tower one. I brushed it off with a chuckle and smile but I knew it was right. However moving my stuff to tower two would take a significant time and effort that I had no motivation for at the moment.

After double checking the water reserves and utilities I headed down to the tenth floor to begin the second half of my duties. Floors ten through twenty were on my list today and I went from unit to check on the plants growing on the balconies. I re-filled the water in the drip systems and pruned any dead or dying bits off the healthy tissue. The strawberries and tomatoes on the 11th floor were ready to harvest so I placed them in buckets in the elevator. I'll make sure to freeze what was left over after I make some sauces tonight.

My side quest of finding cocoa powder was turning out poorly until I reached 1203. Of course it would be Gertrude's place. I wasn't too much of fan of old Gertrude, she was a bit brash and didn't have much in the way of a filter. She openly stated that she hated me. To be fair, it wasn't just me that she hated, it was everyone in the condo complex. Actually, now that I think of it, I'm not sure if she ever said that she liked anything.

I think that's what kept her going for so long, the hatred. She was 96 and living alone when things went bad; her husband had passed 30 years prior. I honestly can't believe he held out that long. We didn't even know that she was in the building at the beginning. It wasn't until we were going around scavenging supplies from every unit that we came across her; I think that was around day 14. I don't think she even knew what was going on outside. The others left her alone, mostly because she made it quite audible that she didn't need any of our help. Still, I left baskets of food outside of her door, and they were empty when I'd return. Though I wouldn't put it past that bitter old witch to just throw most, or all of it, off of the balcony.

I'd like to say that we became friends in time, but I can't even hold a straight face thinking that thought. She died alone and friendless and I'm pretty sure that's exactly what she wanted. I knew she had passed when the basket of food was still full when I came back to swap it out. I hope it was painless, but I'll never know. She was in her bed when she went, all tucked in, and I think she knew it was coming. She left a note in an envelope, addressed to me personally, on her kitchen table. It was written in that typical old person, hard to read, cursive writing. Cog helped me frame it, and I have it hanging on the wall in my living room.

See you in hell you fat lazy cocksucker, I hope you die a miserable death,

Until then water my lilies,

If you kill them I'll gut you like grandma did to that negro back on the farm.

Cog and I had a party to celebrate her passing. I'm sure she would have done the same if the situation was reversed. We cremated her remains on day 887, the day after she passed.

I swapped out the water in her lilies; I always made sure that they were well looked after. It's not too much effort in the end and I hope it would make her happy. Well ... at least not as angry. As a reward I commandeered her tin of cocoa powder. It looked like it was quite old and had never been opened. There was faded cartoon that adorned the label next to the brand name. A white, obviously American family was sitting around the dinner table while the wife brought in a plate of cookies. I hope that cocoa powder doesn't expire.

I finished the remainder of my day's work with little else happening of note. I made sure to lock the sky-walk after I brought today's haul of food back to tower one. I think brownies would go well with strawberries.

I began dinner preparations as soon as I got back to my apartment. Today was special so I wanted to take a little more time to get everything ready. I started with the brownies, they'd take a while to bake. Once they were in the oven, I boiled a large pot of water before using it to wash the berries (I miss treated municipal water). I diced up half and froze the rest.

I boiled some dried lentils and beans while I began working up a tomato sauce with today's fresh ingredients. I again froze half before dumping the rest into the now soft and strained beans. I added a package of taco seasoning that I had salvaged from somebodies spice rack. I can't be certain where I got it from, but between the two buildings I doubt I will actually ever run out of dried spices. This simmered on the stove while I began work on wheat flour tortillas.

They were lightly fried using oil I had already extracted from sunflower seeds. It took less than five minutes to prepare. I scooped out the bean concoction into the tortillas and topped it with finely diced tomatoes and strips of lettuce. It was going to be very nice, although it would have been better with sour cream and cheese. I can't remember when I last had meat or dairy.

I plated the dish and took the whole tray of brownies with me to the table on the balcony. The sun was sitting low in the sky and the evening clouds were already coming in. If Cog was here, I would have paired the entire meal with a glass from our meager supply of wine. This was his favorite dish. I usually had to keep my guard up while eating, otherwise he'd sneak forkfuls from my plate when I wasn't looking.

I met Cog when I was in grade 10, he had just moved here from Europe; his dad was a manager for one of the resort chains. It couldn't have been more than a week before the two of us were inseparable. We laughed with each other, cried with each other, fought with each other, played the same sports, had the same interests and took the same classes in school. He was the brother I never had. Well, technically I do ... did have a brother, although I hadn't seen or talked to him since I was four. I went with dad, he stayed with mom.

Cog was my best friend, and I was his. After high school we roomed together for a while, then split apart while we each built our own future. Me with my tour company, him with his dive shop and deep water fishing. Around the same time we both ended up looking for a place to call our own. After what was an extremely brief discussion we both picked out condo units right next to each other. It was fantastic.

When the bad times hit we stuck together and made sure to keep each other safe. He was my anchor and I was his. I suppose that's why we were such a great team; it was an all or nothing affair. If one of us wasn't going to get out of something, the other was going down too. You might think of that as a bad thing, but just knowing that you have somebody with that sort of dedication watching your back makes you feel calm and collected. With both of those you can think clearly in a tight situation which means you've got a better chance of going home at the end of the day. I think we outlasted the rest because of it. We were the last of the group and were going stronger than ever.

I probably should have noticed the changes. I probably should have seen the signs. But I'm not smart, and obviously not very observant. His appetite slowly decreased; he was leaving food on his plate. He stopped improving in the gym. We had always challenged each other to push faster and farther, but he began to lag behind. He grew weary earlier on in strength training and couldn't lift what he once was able to. I did question him once or twice but he always claimed it was something minor, like a cold or sore muscles. He said it would improve with time. It finally hit me when I made him his favorite dinner.

"Sorry, but I'm not really hungry. Could you maybe save me some for later?"

Those words cut me wide, and cut me right down to the core. I confronted him, demanding to know what was going on. He broke quickly after I started to yell. He never did tell me when he first noticed it start, but his family history was enough. His grandmother died of it at age 49. His mother died of it at age 36. Cog had just turned 28. I don't remember crying that hard in my life.

He tried to play it down, said we'd find a way to make it work. It succeeded, at least for a while. We went on as normal, although I secretly tried to take as much work from him as possible. He put up a brave front for as long as he could, but soon buckled under the diminishing strength of his body. He started only working half days. I didn't mind. I would wake him up for dinner and read aloud to him as we both laid on the couches next to the pool. Half days turned into quarter days, which rapidly progressed into forcing him to alternate days. That lasted less than a week before he just stayed in the apartment. I didn't get a lot of sleep during that time; I tried to work at night as much as possible to look after Cog.

It was a Saturday during the rainy season when he asked me to do it. It right after breakfast, just as we had sat down in the living room to watch the storm. It took me off guard and he had to repeat himself a few times before it fully registered. I wanted to get mad, but couldn't. I told him absolutely not. He told me I wasn't being a very good friend. I agreed with him, but didn't relent. He didn't press the topic further, and soon began to doze off. I put on a brave face but I left as soon as he was unconscious and went to the roof. I cried myself to sleep on the couch next to the pool.

That week he could only keep one meal down. He had lost more than a third of his weight over the past few months. That Saturday was surprisingly sunny, he asked me again. I couldn't hold the barrier up this time. I held him while I cried. I told him that couldn't do it; that I didn't want to be alone. He said he understood and he left it at that.

He only left his room half the days that week, the rest he stayed in bed. It was the first time he had an accident. He was really embarrassed and couldn't stop sobbing. I comforted him and told him not to worry, that I didn't mind. That Saturday was a thunderstorm. I was laying in bed with him and reading him the next part of our book. I stopped to grab him a glass of water and when I returned he asked me again. He handed me the gun and I asked him when he took it. He told me it was while I was out working at night. Said it was too heavy for him to handle, and that his hands were no longer steady. He didn't want to make a mess, or for it to hurt. I took it from him and told him no, I couldn't do it. Not like this. He said he understood, but started to cry. I quickly followed and we laid in the bed together. I didn't do any work that day.

The last week he only left his room once, he was barely speaking anymore. I took him food and water, but he barely touched any of it. On Friday I made his favorite dinner and I brought him brownies for dessert. He didn't touch anything. After he fell asleep I cried in the hallway. I went down to Felicity's and found a reference textbook on toxicology. The night was spent going from apartment to apartment gathering all the medication I could find. I cataloged what I had found and cross-checked it with the book. I was able to find enough of a few things. I picked one, ground up the amount I needed and then dissolved it in water. I used one of the syringes that I had found to draw it up.

It was Saturday morning by the time I had everything ready. A dense layer of fog sat over the city, the top of which was around the 25th floor. You couldn't see the streets or the other buildings but off in the faint distance you could see the bright blue ocean and the sun beginning to peak over the horizon. I entered his room and woke him up. I asked if he wanted anything to eat or drink. He said no. His eyes said something else as well. I told him that I'd be back in a minute. I brought in the syringe on a tray. When he saw it, he smiled. I started to cry as he rolled up his sleeve; he was always cold these days. I found his vein and looked him in the eyes, he nodded, keeping the smile on his sunken face. I pushed it in and depressed the plunger. I withdrew it and placed it on the bedside table.

He looked happy, happier than he had been in a long time. He laid his head down on the pillow and I wrapped my arms around him and sobbed. He closed his eyes soon after, then his breathing slowed, before finally ceasing entirely. I didn't leave his side until dinner. I didn't eat anything that day, nor the next. I held a ceremony on Sunday, it was a bright, cloudless day. I felt betrayed by the weather. I had killed my best friend, my brother and the last piece of family I had on day 1,421. I cremated his remains and buried his ashes next to the mango tree in the centre court of the garden.

I didn't want to cry during dinner, but I couldn't help it. It been four years since that day, and I don't think I'll ever get over it. I don't think I'd want to get over it, even if I could. I ate my fill while watching the ocean through the fading light.

I found a letter that he had written to me. It was tucked underneath his pillow. I never opened it up. I keep it locked in the units' safe. I'm saving it for a really bad day, maybe it will help me get through it. I don't think I could read it otherwise. I'd probably end up doing something that I'd regret.

I cleaned up the leftovers and scrubbed the dishes before finishing my log of the day's events. I make sure to note that it was Cog's anniversary. I retreat for the evening to the sofa near the pool. I arrive about the same time that the rain starts. I don't plan on going back down for tonight. Cog and I loved this place. I tried to read, but my mind won't focus. I just watched the patter of the rain against the plexiglass windows and the crack of thunder in the distance. I slowly nodded off but not before feeling the sofa rock gently back and forth as the fault under the island turned over in its slumber.

I awoke in the morning to the couch shifting once again. It was only a brief bump but it was enough to get me up. I stood up and stretched, before resetting the furniture back to pre-earthquake positions. I caught the centre court mango tree eying me up suspiciously from across the garden. I waved; I still want to be a good neighbor after all. It quickly turned away and didn't return my gesture.

I decided that I'd be lazy today and moved out onto the rooftop before sitting down on the bench closest to the ocean. The thick fog obscured the landscape below me and I felt like I was on top of the world. The ocean seemed to be calm this morning. It would have been a nice day to go for a walk on the beach, if the circumstances were different. I sat in silence and stared at vast blue expanse.

Kraaathump

That was a strange noise. I turned around to find the source, though not as quickly as I probably should have. I think if I was smart I should have been scared, but as I've said before I'm not, so I wasn't. I've had a good run this far, if this is the end then I'm alright with that.

Blue fabric billowed in the air over top of a black object now sitting in my rows of corn. It would be such a tragedy if all the corn was to be suddenly ripped from the ground and thusly deemed inedible. I slowly, but not cautiously wandered over to the new object. A figure in a strange suit emerged from what now looks to be a seat. It seems to have seen me, as it quickly pulled out a gun and pointed it in my direction. It had been over two years since I had seen another person, four if you stipulate that the person must be living. I'm not quite sure what I was thinking, I probably wasn't. I think some gears of thought had started to turn and my mind went back to some old default social settings. It had been a while since I had engaged in a proper conversation.

"Good Morning! Nice weather we're having isn't it?"

The figure paused for a moment, before they lowered the weapon and started to laugh.

End

Thank you for taking the time to read this, or scroll to the bottom of the page. Either way I would like to personally thank you for it. I would greatly appreciate any constructive criticism on the work.