Rewind

The first time I went to a football match as a kid my attention was diverted when a goal was scored.  I realised that there was no 'real life' rewind button and the moment had passed.

Today I feel as if I have pressed the pause button.  I have no reference points any more.  There are no signals to tell me which day of the week it is.  There are no newspapers, or bin collections, or favourite TV programmes to watch.  Every day bleeds out of the last and into the next.  I have become acutely aware of the rotation of the planet.  The beginning of the day and the onset of night were once demarcated by other events.  An alarm clock, breakfast radio, the start of the working day, the flood of people onto the street at lunchtime, rush hour, evening tea, putting the kids to bed...

All of these things served to remind me of the routine of life and the passing of day.  Now time just sweeps along brushing memories with it.  

And while my life is on pause and the past seems like a different lifetime I want to press fast-forward.  I wonder at what will happen next.  Surely there will be more to life than the tedium of day after day of nothingness.

I look at everything through a different lens now.  In the evenings after work I used to listen to piano music.  It helped to alleviate the stress of a busy day.  I sat in my kitchen this evening with the lights off, slowly sipping on a tumbler of whisky and listening to the same music.  At first, it was dull and flat and lifeless.  Slowly, my anger started to build and I had to turn it off.  I felt my chest tightening with rage as I stormed out of the house and got into my car.  For a split second I considered the fact that I had too much  whisky to drive and then I turned the key and pressed hard on the accelerator.  The car bumped and bounced from the driveway onto the road. 

I was drunk and speeding and angry.

Society has died.  I was breaking the old rules with only my conscience to admonish me.  So I went and broke more rules.  I filled my car up with petrol and didn't pay.  I drove for miles on the wrong side of the road.  I constantly broke the speed limit.  At times I thought I was driving too fast and could crash my car.  I thought about dying.  That didn't stop me.  I thought about injuring myself and lying in a car wreck in sever pain with nobody to rescue me.  That slowed me down.  I drove to the coast again and turned the radio on.  I tuned into the frequency where I had previously heard those faint desperate calls.  I heard nothing.

I sat and watched the last light disappear from the sky.  There was only the sound of the waves on the shore and the wind as it randomly rose and fell.  On the horizon I could see lights - marker buoys and navigation aids.  I wondered how long their power would last.  It occurred to me that I never considered who was responsible for making sure that the lights on these stayed alight.  It is moments like this that make you realise just how much goes into keeping society ticking along.  There are the indefinable routines and jobs that nobody notices but which are vital for safety and for civilisation.  You don't notice them till they're gone.

In the heat of the car and with whisky in my blood I started to feel sleepy.  The waves crashed and the wind blew and my head started to nod.

A voice barked out of the radio.  My heart exploded in my chest and I jumped against the seatbelt across my chest.  For a second I didn't realise where the voice was coming from.  Heavily accented the female voice asked, 'Can any person hear me?'

Out of reach

I drove all day.  I didn't see a single person.

It is hard not to become overwhelmed by the sense that I am adrift.  I feel marooned.  My thoughts stray endlessly to what has happened to the rest of the world's population, my friends, my family.  Are they still alive?

I used to crave solitude.  Now it is crushing.  I have started talking to myself just to hear a human voice, just to hear noise.  Otherwise the silence is deep and stark.  

It rained this morning.  The sound of it woke me out of my sleep.  It rained hard as if the Earth was purging itself.  I went and stood on the front step of my house watching it.  When it had finished there was only the sound of water gurgling in the drains.  I walked along the road kicking my bare feet through the rivers of rainwater.  The air smelt fresh and clean.

Then I got into the car and drove.  More radio stations have gone off air.  I caught the faint signal of a foreign station.  I couldn't tell what language it was broadcasting in as the reception came and went but I could tell that it was the voice of a woman.  I'm not sure whether it is fake hope but she sounded desperate, as if she was calling out to somebody - perhaps to make contact with her.  Several times I almost crashed the car trying to fine-tune the signal but it was like trying to catch the wind.  I gave up but took a note of the frequency so that I could try again.  Who knows?

In the late evening I got out of the car just before I turned to come home.  I thought it would be good to take a photograph of my car on the road so that I could tell myself that I had company.  The light was fading fast and I didn't focus my camera correctly.  When I got home I found that the photograph was grainy and out of focus.

It seems that everything is just out of reach. It's as if the truth is close but I can't wrap my fingers around it.  I can almost see it and feel it but it's just too far away.

It has almost been a week now.

A new normal

This morning I mowed the lawn

When I had finished I sat drinking a cold glass of water wondering whether mowing the lawn was such a good idea.  I suppose I crave some normality in this new world.  At the same time I will be sending signals out that I am here.  Do I want to do this?  Surely in all of the stories about the end of days there are zombie hordes roaming the streets looking for fresh meat.  I haven't seen any zombie hordes yet and I'm not sure they would stop to admire my garden.  This set me thinking.  What if there are others?  Will they be looting and pillaging or will they try to continue with some sense of normality?  I guess I'll find out in time.

So far I have not wandered too far from my home.  I feel safe here but I need to explore a little further.  My car still works fine (I washed it after I mowed the lawn) so I have the means to go further.  I guess I am a little worried about what I might find.  Tomorrow might be the day to take the car out.

I think I have already begun to adapt to this new type of existence.

Yesterday, I phoned every number in my contact list.  All the numbers rang and rang and nobody answered.  I have tried to listen to all the radio stations I can think of.  Some have music playing but I suspect this is a prerecorded loop as there is no DJ to break things up.  Others just give out a very flat digital whine.  It's almost worse than listening to nothing.  The television is similar to the radio.  Some channels are broadcasting, while others aren't.  The news stations have a screen that reads 'We will return shortly' or words to that effect.  I don't suspect that they will ever return.

My thoughts have started to turn to survival.  For the moment electricity still flows but I guess that once there is a power cut it won't be coming back on.  The milk in the fridge has started to sour.  I realise that I need to stockpile canned goods.  I also realise how sheltered my world has been.  Never have I had to fend for myself.  Never did I expect life to take this turn.

I think I need to move from my house to something with more space.  Perhaps something with a basement to store my food supplies.  I can't really bear to leave my house.  The memories pull on me like the moon pulls on the sea.  But I have to be practical.  I need to have a plan and be ready. I need to adapt to the new normal.

Tomorrow I will explore.

Too afraid

I am too afraid

To walk alone through

the broken rooms of our life

or to look for

the memories of our time

I miss the rain

and the summer breeze

that brushed your face and left

a scent of you

that I can not hold

Between the cold days

I dream we touch

our fingertips against each others and

I hold my breath

to drown in your eyes

I would die tonight

to see you smile

once more and to hold your

hand in mine and

dance again in the fountain

I am too afraid

to say your name

or listen to the ocean's call 

to watch the stars

or to cry for you

I miss you

I died a little

Last night I dreamt about my parents.  I was standing outside a coffee shop and they were inside mixing with a crowd of people who I didn't recognise. It was night time and the soft glow of the warm light from the window spilled out into the street where I stood in the cold.

I wave to them but they can not see me.  I shout at my father and bang on the glass.  Everybody inside is laughing and having a good time.  Nobody acknowledges my existence.  Condensation runs down the inside of the glass that separates us.

My father died almost 10 years ago.  I miss him every day.  I thought my dream was trying to tell me that he has been joined by everybody else.  What does this mean?  I would ask a psychologist but...  I am not a religious person so I don't believe in an afterlife.  I also don't believe that every human on the planet could just be sucked up into space never to be seen again.

I visited the supermarket today.  The doors swished open and closed behind me.  Muzak greeted me.  I decided to turn it off.  I found my way to the office and eventually found the PA system,  I turned it off and went back to do my shopping.  The supermarket was eerily quiet.  The squeak of my shoes on the polished floor made my blood chill.  I went back to the office and turned the Muzak back on.

Later on I got very drunk.  So drunk that I passed out sitting at the kitchen table.  I woke with a sore neck and a groggy head.  The lights were still on.  It was the dead of night.  I stumbled into bed leaving all the lights in the house still on.

Who cares?

On the first day

In my childhood I used to wander alone.  I was not a lonely child but sometimes craved solitude in order to spend time with my thoughts.  

On the first day I wandered through the streets alone but for my thoughts and questions.  Where have they gone?  Why have I not been taken?  How long will the electricity and water last?  What if I get ill?

It took me a while to realise just how quiet a world without people can be and how much the smallest sound can startle.

I felt like king of the world but then realised that I had no subjects.  After a while, I sat down at the side of the road and cried.  I grieved for my family and my friends.  I grieved for mankind whose fate was unknown to me.  I grieved for myself, truly alone on an abandoned Earth.

My thoughts filled with theories and considerations and my tears dried.

Perhaps I wasn't the only passenger.

As day turned to night, the streetlights sparked into life.  It was time to go home but in truth I had no home and every home.

Tomorrow I would wander further.