Author: Mark Renney
The road is becoming much more difficult to follow and there are places where it disappears entirely and each time it does the road becomes a little harder to locate. Davis is now spending most of his time meandering back and forth, searching for it.
He is stalled on the edge of the plain and if he is to continue, to keep making for the centre, toward the point of impact, Davis will have to abandon the road and venture out there. Although the debris is still plentiful, here he can see quite clearly that on the plain it begins to lessen, to thin out.
On the road he hasn’t had to stray very far in order to find what he needs, taking what he wants as and when he wants it. Food and drink, of course, and there is still an abundance of cans and cartons and packets and bottles or a change of clothes or a new pair of boots.
On the plain, it will be necessary for him to carry provisions. Davis searches for something with which he will be able to do this. A rucksack would be ideal, or a suitcase, one with wheels. But he is unable to find either of these, or even one of those sturdy carrier bags the supermarkets used to sell: ‘A BAG FOR LIFE’ had been the motto. Davis remembers how he had always forgotten them and so whenever he visited a store he would have to purchase another until, eventually, there were so many kicking around the house he had been forced to gather them up and throw them in the dustbin. Now, when he really needed one, there were no Bags For Life, not out here.
Davis considers constructing something himself, anything with ropes attached would suffice. A makeshift sledge he could drag along behind him. But it doesn’t feel right to use something he has cobbled together. No, it has to be something from before, something still intact, still useful.
We don’t fully value something until it’s gone.
(A friend of mine’s parents, now gone, kept everything, including a cardboard box labeled, “String Too Short to Save.”)