Saturday

 

Another Saturday morning dawned in the city. 

Missy’s a stickler about the days–she won’t let it go; she keeps us on track. It’s Saturday, not that anyone gives a damn.

The city isn’t much now. Everyone’s gone. We’d snuck back in after, and set ourselves up in one of the still-standing buildings. We like being high; ground level can be scary. There are animals, sometimes.

This place isn’t bad. The furniture is still good. Blankets and clothes were left behind. There’s no power, though, and no glass in the windows. It’s not a problem–yet.

Food, though…that’s a problem every day. Missy found planters and seeds, and things are growing. There will be tomatoes, onions, potatoes, lettuce and cabbages. We won’t starve; she has a green thumb!   

There’s a working water pipe down there. Harvey made a fire pit nearby, and Mom always boils the water. It’s hard to carry upstairs in buckets, but I’m getting bigger muscles.

We got into the hardware store–that’s been dead useful. I wish the grocery store had fared as well–that place is flattened. Gordon and Mike are “making a plan” to get inside.

We found rolls of heavy plastic. We’ll be able to cover windows before it gets cold. Missy says keeping track of days helps her know when the seasons will change. I don’t get how knowing it’s a Saturday will tell her winter is coming, but she’s not letting it go.

I don’t care; she can do as she pleases. She likes to watch the sunrise. I think when we cover windows, we’ll fix one so she can see outside. Little things make people happy, even now; if that’s what she needs, we should to do it.

Missy does a lot more for us than knowing it is Saturday.

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