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A quote: “The more corrupt the state, the more numerous the laws.” ― Tacitus, The Annals of Imperial Rome
I’ll start with a story …
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To say I come from a long line of preppers would be too kind. Paranoid, surly, secretive, border-line homicidal pessimists just scratches the surface. But we’re family and I love ‘em.
I was born off the books, never chipped and if The State took much notice of us it was when we were to be made examples of. We mourned our losses and moved on.
Generations of persecution left its mark. The State was unaware of our unique skills. Made it easy to spot the random State spook.
But when I lost my parents? This time I don’t move on.
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Now, it’s your turn.
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featured image, cropped and enhanced, by Spencer Selover from Pexels
nicole says: Eli returned to his home town, after being away for six long, unpredictable months. He tried to settle back into a normal daily routine, but was always on edge & looking around every corner. At times, when it all seemed too much he would go a favorite spot in the woods, where he felt safe. He had spent many hours with his friends as a child walking the trails, climbing the trees and fishing in the small pond. This was his safe & happy place. When it became dark, he would channel his strength and venture out of the woods, back to his apartment and try to interact with the world. Some days it was too much of a challenge and he found himself waking up in his safe place, his cabin in the woods. This is where Sergeant General Eli would remain, safe from fear of his enemies!
Steve White says: We’d walked for days. We were one of the very first to leave the city after the crash; I think that was the only reason why we’d made it into the national forest. Our food was long-gone. The last water we’d had came from a drainage ditch; the cramps and rumbles in my gut told me that hadn’t been a good idea. The cabin sat in a small clearing surrounded by woods and boulders. It looked as all of us felt: worn, broken, leaning over as if to fall any moment.
It was heaven.
Whose shack this is I think I know
The owner hangs out in town though,
Teaching college kids poli sci
Creating human flakes of snow.
I keep my motorbike in gear.
In case he sneaks up from the rear
To frighten me away so that
Into a window I do not peer.
This rustic cabin looks like crap.
The locked door is a booby-trap.
Inside a coed sits on the prof’s lap,
While he says it’s time to take a nap.
Phoenix says: It had taken days, but they were almost there. Dawn had struggled to remember the way, and the years that had passed made it even more difficult to find the way as landmarks had changed. Finally she and the children followed the trail around a bend and there it was. Her grandfather’s cabin, sitting lonely in the forest.
She recalled the times she had spent here with her grandparents, and the great adventures had as a child. The sight of the cabin evoked the memory of feeling safe. And for a moment she let herself hope.
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