The Post Apocalyptic Podcast

“I’ll take five diamond earrings,” the lady from the fourth encampment north said. “Five pairs of diamond earrings?” I asked. “Yes, five pairs, and I want them all fingertip.”

“Hear that si–” …lence, boy? That’s right, the generator’s down.

Terra gives her best impression of a scowl up at me, though to my eye she looks more like a puppy that’s about to sneeze.

Anders is crying. His face remains composed, not a single twitch, but his eyes are shining.

Halvar sheltered under the branches of an old willow tree, hidden from sight by a thick curtain of fronds that trailed the river’s surface.