12 December 2013
Dear Adam,
I laughed today after a long time. People who were standing around me thought that I’ve went crazy. But only you could understand me.
We were out this morning, in search for supplies, plants for food, forgotten cans or objectives that would help our everyday living. The cold was bitter and the whistling wind, which was going through the ruins of our -once upon a time-loved city, was cracking our bones. While I was trying to protect myself from cold and hide from our persecutors, I came face to face with our past.
Do you remember how we first met? A cold Monday morning as I was walking to my work, you came next to me with that ridiculous costume, in that ridiculous car of Cooking and Scratch’s store and with a seductive smile you asked if I wanted a ride. Until today, I’m questioning myself of how you managed to seduce me. Additionally, the car had an enormous rooster on the top. And yet, despite all this ridiculousness, I found myself today, opponent the legendary car of Cooking and Scratch’s, laughing in a way that I hadn’t laughed for a whole year.
But I guess when I wrote you that hope and death dance together nowadays while they mock our scared faces, was not an exaggeration. When we got back to our coffin, I saw that the five numbers of the device were off. People was frightened more than any other time - to the limits of paranoia- and next to the source of our hope , the radio, right in front of the device, there was a big bottle filled with a liquid that I hadn’t seen before. I regretted the minute I asked what was this liquid.
Conium.
A mixture of plants which created a powerful poison, capable of killing a grown human. And this was not for our enemies. This was the last chance of people here to avoid a cruel and painful death. This was destined for us.
Goodnight my love.
Your Eve.
YOU ARE READING
Four letters from Hades
Short StoryHow do you measure life? Are four letters, without a receiver, enough to enclose our life, our achievements, our whole existence?
