33. Cold Water

22/11/08

I woke up with a start this morning, out of one of those dreams it takes you a while to shake, anxiety tugging at you. My mind full of guilt, regret - for what we had and had not done yesterday and fear for what may follow.

Yesterday we plundered another house. One protected by high walls, electric gates and security cameras. One we'd never, in normal life, have been able to enter. As with the houses B. had already visited, the gates were open and the door unlocked. That made me feel better about it - perhaps there had been an agreement to leave the houses open in case someone was left behind, in case someone needed to help themselves. I still whispered as we went in, looked around nervously for signs of life, hanging back behind B.

It was a gorgeous house, built for entertaining, a huge staircase sweeping into the entrance hall. Beautiful antique furniture. It had the feel of a place that had 'been in the family for years'. I walked around, awestruck. For now this place was part of our estate.

A shout from B. - I followed the call and found him racking up a pool table. I scooted back to the kitchen and came back with kettle chips and beer. In other words, we spent the day mucking about with someone else's stuff. And yes, it was fun and it's important to keep your spirits up. But we're just kidding ourselves here. We are in a total mess and we need to get out of it. We haven't done any of the things we said we would, we haven't even checked on the animals. How can we be so reckless? Do we actually want to keep living like this? Do we seriously think it's going to stay this easy? That the food won't run out? That we won't get ill? That the world is going to let us keep on taking without giving? That we aren't sometime very soon going to find ourselves without heat or power or water? And then what do we do? And if we think we're going to get rescued any moment, what are we doing trampling over other people's privacy?

No. Either we think we're getting out of here, in which case we use only what we need to make that happen. Or we accept that maybe we're not in which case...

I've got to talk to B.

And now the radio comes on. And it doesn't give me its usual comfort.

Why do they have to mess around with perfectly good programs?