Bunker Fare

Hello, the two of you that are following my lonesome little blog. I have not been as devout to posting as I had hoped I could be. School has taken a nasty tole on my free time. But, all of the stress, lack of sleep, and little cat-naps that have fueled me onward through my days have produced some pretty exciting dreams. I am going to do my best to catch up and make up for my serious (yet inescapable) neglect of this blog.

There was some type of chemical war going on. Dean and I and our partners decided to create an under-ground bunker to stay in. It wasn’t very big; there was just a kitchen and a living room with two couches, and two very tiny back bedrooms. There was also a small biosphere-like area where plants and food were grown. We had decided to head below because there had been a rumor of a chemical bomb threat broadcast over the radio. We decided that a month below could possibly be a sufficient amount of time to wait for the major threat to be over.

A month went by so slow; this trapped feeling rising in everyone’s throats, just on the verge of panic; it left a lingering after-taste. The hunger for sunlight was unbearable. The lights in the garden weren’t enough, it just wasn’t the same. Being down there felt like someone else had dressed me in my own skin, but had put it on too tight, or had thrown it in the dryer for too long and it had shrunk. I was scratching to get out, pangs of longing for the sky plunged deep into my gut.

We had small arguments now and then, brought on by the need to find a place to breath away from each other; even if it was just to gulp down fistfuls of stale air. But, for the most part we all got along pretty well; we had already been good friends for a long while. Dean and I had known each other for the longest. We had known each other since high school. Those days seemed so far away in comparison to the recent days, which had been filled with fear and running as the world fell apart in a clatter of metal and gunpowder.

Finally, the day came when we could return to the surface. By this point we had become more afraid of being underground than the chemicals that were possibly raining down above our little haven of solitude. We crammed into the elevator, pressed in even closer to each other for the last bit of our imprisonment; perhaps so that the escape would taste that much sweeter. The doors opened and we tumbled out in to the forest. Blinking, under that bright-green canopy, it began to rain. Oh, the air was so clean, expanding in my lungs, pushing out the fermented air-conditioned oxygen from the bunker. And the rain. The rain felt like magic. I never thought I could miss the rain so much. We danced in the forest, wet and pale, but free.