Decrease

Wednesday - September 15

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Once again, the sirens blare announcing that Martial Law is now in effect. The destitute of Atlanta quickly try to locate a place to lodge until tomorrow morning when they will hear their wake up call, allowing them to walk freely once more.

Military vehicles patrol the snowy trodden streets, as they roar like lions through a megaphone, ordering everyone to seek immediate shelter, or be detained for questioning. After fifteen minutes, the streets expose only armed soldiers, circling the city like vultures, ready to pounce on any unfortunate victim. The city is quiet as the sound of soldier's footsteps walk systematically, checking every nook and cranny, being thorough that no human beings are present.

Noise in the distant penetrates the night's eerie stillness as it creeps closer. Lastly, the noise appears; it is a flock of geese, flying south for the winter. Just as the Bachman's Sparrows have become misguided due to global warming, the geese, too, have also been deceived. In twenty-four hours they will be returning, unaware of the shortness of time they will have left to exist. Miraculously, many of them do exist and continue to evolve with the current surrounding conditions. No matter what species are on Earth, the survival of the fittest continues to prevail.

Military Jeeps with huge spotlights on trailers drive cautiously as they survey the empty streets. Over handheld radios, soldiers' voices cry out, "Spot check. Over." Mumbling voices of soldiers and commanders fly freely over the airwaves. Once again, the night is guarded against the invading pestilence.

Claire holds the curtain back to see the line of military Jeeps parading along the avenue. The sight of the military reminds Claire how apathetic she is towards governments, militaries, and other potentates that exercise abusive treatment to the populace. Claire takes a deep sigh and lets the curtain fall freely. She decides to vacate her solitude and exits the bedroom to encounter the delicious aroma of Italian spices. She notices Aunt Ruth preparing another fine feast for their evening consumption. Not wanting to startle Aunt Ruth, Claire gently says, "Do you need any help, Aunt Ruth?" as she enters.

Aunt Ruth tilts her head up towards Claire and smiles. "Did you have a pleasant nap, dear?" she asks, while she tends to dinner.

"Yes, I did. Thank you. Do you need any help, Aunt Ruth? It smells divine!"

Aunt Ruth grabs a pot holder to open the oven door and pulls out a tray with two slices of garlic bread toasted to perfection. "Lovely. Just lovely!" Aunt Ruth says, as she sets the hot tray on the counter.

Claire watches Aunt Ruth meticulously create an exquisite meal that royalty would enjoy. Aunt Ruth rinses the spaghetti, and then adds the sauce and spices to finalize her Italian creation. She scurries over to the refrigerator and pulls out a bowl containing tossed salad, along with a bottle of dressing. Claire sees Aunt Ruth setting the table, so she volunteers and goes to the cupboard to get two plates and two bowls. Both of the women work hard with great anticipation to savor the evening's course. When the table is set, Aunt Ruth turns around, smiles, and says, "Dinner is served." Both of the women giggle, and begin to anxiously fill their plates generously with spaghetti. Quietly, they sit at the table to enjoy a peaceful dinner.

Aunt Ruth takes her paper napkin, opens it, and gracefully lays it upon her lap. Sneakily, she takes hold of Claire's hand, and says, "Let us give thanks, dear. Shall we?" Claire squeezes Aunt Ruth's hand, nods quietly, and then closes her eyes.

Silence is their only companion for a short time. Aunt Ruth releases Claire's hand, and says out loud, "Thank you, Lord." Claire looks at Aunt Ruth and shakes her head in agreement. Seconds later, both women eagerly devour their Italian feast, enjoying each other's company.