There have been no new arrivals in days, and the camp is condensing. What used to be a small village taking up a large part of the south shore of the lake is now an even smaller cluster of campers and motorhomes. Most of the tents have been dismantled and removed, as survivors lay claim to the better accomodations. Nobody even asks anymore, where the original owners went. They are just gone, and this camper is free. Would you like to move in? It'll be warmer than your tent when the cold hits.
Nobody talks about anything but the most superficial of things. Things that we miss, what our children are learning, food we are going to cook and eat when we get back to civilisation. Do you think there are any cows left? I almost laughed. There were no cows where we were, anyway! A wistful sigh instead, I miss beef, too.
I want to scream, what makes them think there will even BE civilisation to go home to? This is IT.
And yet, I'm just as guilty as they are. My conversation skills have dwindled down to what book I'm reading, how fast Daniel is getting at digging pit traps, and how great Jason is doing with his marksmanship. I don't even discuss Ed with the other women, I'm afraid of letting out some of what I really feel. Or worse, I'm afraid to discover that they have known all along.
I only have a few more minutes before Olivia leaves and takes this with her. Tonight I'm going to ask Ed if I can take Daniel to the fish station. It's time he learned how to deal with his own catch. Because god knows, I may not be around forever.
