A wanderer's story
Subject A woke from his test tube in the usual circumstances. The cold outdoors his only savior from the things he had witnessed in the lab. Stark, barren ground greeted him with the unwelcome embrace of a dying world. He thought of himself. Nothing came to mind.
A walked, as there was little more to do, to a patch of asphalt nearby. Hoping for a stranger's greeting, he ventured into one of the cold sheds. A backpack lay there, and a crowbar, propped against the space where the corrugated walls converged. The dim light of the moon descended.
He had to eat! A patch of woods lay east of the shed. Stumbling over the broken branches he found a small stream of questionable water. As A quickly drank from the creek he heard noises of moving brush behind. It was time to move again.
Small mushrooms found on the side of wrecked trees did little but tantalize him into reveries of meals past. Which meals? Where? A was unsure of these memories that came unbidden to him as he wept and ate, sitting on a log beside the remnants of a long expired campfire.
... to be continued?