This post was inspired by a writing prompt I had a while back. It was a vague prompt that simply was to write about having no can openers. With the fairly recent release for Fallout 4 and my husband breaking one of our can openers this past week, I felt the timing was prime to post this. I snapped a picture of him holding his coveted ranch beans, a staple in our household. (Seriously, we can’t go to the grocery store without getting a couple cans.) Enjoy 🙂
The life of simple things was once desired; a time in which getting back to the basics was a lifestyle. Stripped of the pleasure of convenience and speed, technique and delayed gratification ruled their attention. After the collapse of society and the comfort they once had, he stared down at the can of soup cradled in his hands.
Sustenance, which his body craved, was in his possession. The worn label would fool others to believe its expiration date was in the distant past. In a time when food was scarce, it was all he had. Ash-covered grounds and rotting flesh everywhere, a can of soup became his hunger’s savior. However, void of any can opener, his stomach still protested.
It was clever for the enemy to take every last can opener as plunder. Anything that resembled such was nowhere to be found. Trying relentlessly to open cans always would leave a dented can with a frustrated, exhausted man. It was going to be an agonizing death for them all; perhaps surviving the attack wasn’t in his best interest.
Surrounded by uncertainly and death’s door beginning to creak as it opened, he refused to accept his fate. Looking into the eyes of those already departing this life, he found the hope he needed. Placing his faith in others’ stupidity, he knew there had to be at least a solitary can opener somewhere. Clenching the can tighter, he revealed the slightest smile, knowing full well he would enjoy its contents.
The sun kissed the horizon before departing for the evening. The intensity of such a kiss reflected in his eyes as he gazed into the sky. He took a deep breath and began weaving in and out of the land’s despair. And so, his journey began.
The story continues here.
Until next time,