The Road

This is just a nonsense short story of mine I may continue it but as of this moment I have no ideas as to how, I am out of ideas, this is no way my best peace of work but it was written at 3am during a rare British heat wave, I couldn’t sleep and this is what developed

The Road



I want to tell you a story, I don’t know when it began or when it will end all I know is that it is a story of life, my life and the lives of those around me. The best place to start is probably where I joined the story; no it was not when I was born but many years later



The earth as it was once known was gone, someone, no one knows who, released a super virus that whipped out 70% of the worlds population those not killed by the bug were wiped out buy the paranoid with what could be acquired of the worlds weaponry farther reducing the worlds population to 15% of what it once was. A loner like myself can go years without seeing another human sole. The scattered remnants of the human race live in isolated groups fighting for what they can find to eat, every thing is considered food even me once.



And on to me, I was born into this destroyed world, nothing more than a scrap of a child the parentless runt pushed out by every one, it taught me to survive and introduced me to life on my own, by the time I reached my teens, I learnt that I couldn’t live as I was scrounging for the village leftovers and working like a slave for table scraps. I packed what little I owned and started out into the story of life



It was when I entered the first village on my path that I found not every one is welcoming. I had avoided people for weeks since leaving the place I once called home till I was all but out of food and water I slowly and nervously made my way into the small gathering of huts made from a mix mach of every thing. I was covered in the dust of the Road and the rags that covered my feet were blood stained, I cared a crude spear I had made myself and an old rucksack I had found on the Road with no straps, I had made straps from an old peace of rope I had with me, it worked fine.



I spotted the well and made my way to it believing that the town was a ghost, empty. I lowered the leather pouch that worked as a bucket on its rope tied to the wall of the well. I had just lifted it onto the ground so I could fill my waster skin when I was hit from behind



I awoke in a small cage in one of the huts, all my belongings had gone, all I could feel was fear, even when they carried my cage out in to the village square. The whole village was gathered, all 10 of them. One obviously the leader stepped forward

“Stranger you came and stole our water so now you will die her with water right before you” a small bole of water was placed out of reach of my arms, slowly they all flooded away



I felt depressed I had started life alone and now I was to die alone, I still had my flute, the only thing I had left of my parents I lifted it to my lips and played, I had only played a few notes on it before but now I played as if it my life depended on it putting my hart and sloe into the music



Slowly the village returned I stopped, fearful of what was going to happen, I was removed from the cage and chained to an old water pipe and ordered to continue. In this world where every day was a struggle to survive I lightened the day with my music and storytelling I spent 2 months in that village learning tunes on the flute but always chained to that pipe, sleeping under the nearby hut with the only friend I had made a stray mutt pup I called Marcus. One morning I woke to the village head standing over my sleeping place he tossed me my belongings

“Its yours if you want it” he pointed to a very small falling down hut



The chain was gone I had my freedom and my trade I had become a bard, a musician and storyteller. It took me a few years to prefect my skill with the flute and living in the village I learnt many other skills that got me what my music and storytelling couldn’t, I became a fair hunter, to feed myself and Marcus and to gather skins for trade, I was also became a bit of a handyman so I could work as well as sing and when I felt I was ready I set of on the Road anew



Travailing short distances using the village as a base I had visited other surrounding villages and traded what I had to equip myself for my journey. I had, for weapons a crossbow and an old shotgun wit a small number of rounds, equipment, I had a new pack a bedroll and an old leather long coat. From one village I had managed to acquire an old mare who it turned out was in foal, the foal I had broken in myself and adjusted the mare’s tack to fit him, I called him Dust



With promises to return I set out back on to the Road, Marcus, Dust and I. I had finally left my teens and as I had found my place in life as a boy I set out to find myself on the Road as a man