by Wayne23 » Sun Feb 12, 2017 11:03 pm
March, 2132: Dark days, dark nights, darkness all the time. Sure, I light the house. I can get it as bright as I want it to be. But I look outside at any time of night and day, and it’s dark. The debris rains down, still, after a few months. The rate at which it falls has slowed but it is still falling. Everything looks lifeless- because it is lifeless. Anything that survived the initial rain of debris has either suffocated or starved by now.
How far does this extend? The old time scientists said it would extend throughout the planet. I have no way of verifying that but why would they have lied.
Here, I’m under about four feet of debris. The robots are doing what they were designed to do. I need to clean them and replace and recharge the solar panels, cells, and batteries far more often than I thought, in them and in the pickup, as well as in the outside shower, but still, they are keeping the path clear from the house to the bus garage, and they are sweeping the debris off the roofs and keeping the windows clean enough for me to see out of, even if there isn’t really anything to see.
So I’m busy with the cleanup and recharging. Sure, the HC and the printer do the real work, but I need to make sure it gets done, and I need to stay on top of recharging schedules for everything.
I find I sleep more these days. Whether that’s some sort of depression, or just stress related fatigue I don’t know. The HC doctors say I’m fine, my body and mind are not deteriorating or aging, so that’s not it.
I still, as always, spend all the time I can aboard the HC yacht. That definitely relaxes me. But life is somehow not as good as it was before the super volcano exploded. I miss being able to drive the pickup to a hiking trail, or to Northampton on a shopping spree. I mean I have everything I need. I doubt that there’s a book or a HC program in Northampton that I don’t have at this point. I scoured every shop in the whole town over and over again.
But it’s the loss of freedom. I have the whole world, the whole universe, really, in the HC, and that’s fantastic, but somehow it’s not the same, and it’s not enough.
Maybe it’s the realization that there will never be another wonderful surprise like Stan and Ollie. I will never know where they came from or how they survived to find me, but I will also never have a repetition of that. There will be no new surprise discoveries.
I finally decided to go into therapy since I am undoubtedly depressed. I went to three HC therapists before I found one who seems to be helping but the one I have now seems like she will find a way for me to snap myself out of this.
Next time: Snow in July.