A post apocalyptic story centered around a young woman named Amaryllis Gore.
| Amaryllis Gore turned the corner sharply as she flung her pack down the sewer hole and hurriedly clambered in, closing and locking the manhole cover back into place. A wash of relief flooded over her now that she had returned to her safe hideout.
The safehouse itself was in fact an old, long abandoned hydraulic vault in the city's main waterworks facility. The chamber wasn't too terribly large, though often the blank red brick walls seemed to adjust their size and forlornness every so often. The control panel in the room off to the right side hadn't works in decades that she knew of. Much of the gears, cables metal valves have long since rusted to an immobilizing point. Amaryllis kept her living space tucked back in to one corner and surrounding her firepit that allowed the smoke to escape from a storm drain. Her space was kept obsessively neat and tidy, an old mattress was laid across some over turned black plastic milk crates, More milk crates were stacked and filled with collections of comics, newspapers, medical and food supplies, and meticulously folded clothes and blankets.
Once she climbed down the ladder underneath the manhole cover, she pluck up her bag and gave it a quick glance over to ensure that nothing had broken. It appeared fine to her. She knew it was a risky move, but at the rate things were going that damned husk of a human was going to catch up with her. Apparently, a young one had claimed this section as his territory after she slew the old one.
Amaryllis dumped the contents of her bag out on to her bed. It was a decent haul, or so she thought. Cans of dog food, creamed corn, Progresso soups and a miscellany of other items. She sorted the items into groups of food and nonfood. Among the nonfood items were some nail clippers, about thirty feet of nylon rope, a hand axe, a bar of soap, and a silver tube of black matte lipstick that was labeled 'Elvira's Soul'. She'd never heard of that one but it was obviously an unopened luxury brand. She shrugged, opened it and put it on. It felt good. The lipstick was velvety and moisturizing. Amaryllis couldn't help but to smile, it had been too long since she had last worn a cosmetic.
She hummed to herself a jaunty tune of happiness as she continued sorting. She took some of the grouped items and stored them in plastic bags so that they wouldn't get any water damage.
Later that evening, she made a meager meal for herself and wrote in her journal.
Today was the three year anniversary of the day that the world ended.