July 27, 2024

A Story by Kaz Krow

A grim look to the future

July 27, 2024....

The sky was dark and overcast again; it had been that way for almost two years now. It was always dark and cold outside, even during the summer. Every day was like night, even at noon, the most light Australia would get was a dim gray half-light. And at night there was no light, no stars, no moon, not even the occasional airplane. The street lights weren’t used anymore, because they wasted power; we needed to save as much power as we could. ....
Gasoline was only to be used during emergencies, but batteries were okay, there were plenty of batteries. The only foods we had eaten for the past year and a half were non-perishables (canned soup, canned beans, bottled water and the like). We never drove anywhere if we could avoid it, cars were often broken into and anything and everything was taken that could be sold or traded, and they used gas.

The streets were always full of people, walking, running, arguing and trading. Money was being used less and less. It was always trading; blankets for water, clothes for food, and if needed badly, gas for medicine.....

Helena and I were walking to the market to trade, we were running low on water and food for Max (dog food was becoming harder to find). We walked past the Sydney Opera House, which had been made into a temporary refugee camp. There were thousands of people in and around the stadium, and hundreds more arrived by boat each day. We passed two men yelling loudly at each other in German, and an Italian man was sitting on the corner trying to trade paintings for water.....

The paintings were beautiful, a sunset over a lake, a hawk flying over a meadow, but one caught my eye. It was of a white mare running through a lush, green field. If the circumstances were different, I would have bought the painting for Helena, but they weren’t, and I didn’t.

The market was a makeshift group of stands and tables with people everywhere trying to trade their wares. It was so crowded that I could barely take two steps without bumping into someone. There was a loud scream and I turned to see a young boy running with a bundle of clothes in his arms, and a large dark skinned man shouting, “Thief! Thief!” The man chased the boy down the street bumping into people as he went.....

Helena tugged on my arm, “Daddy, I wanna go home. It’s too cold, I’m tired."

“Okay, after we get some water and food for Max,” I replied and picked her up and put her on my shoulders.....

We left the market almost three hours later, with a week’s worth of water, but no dog food. I was afraid we might have to get rid of Max. It was becoming harder and harder to care for him. He was old and had trouble walking, but Helena would take it very hard. She grew up with Max. He was fourteen, she was seven. He was as much a part of the family as I was to her....

On the way home it began to snow. It was cold and wet on my cheek, a strange experience for me. Up until two years ago it had never snowed in Sydney and I had never seen it before then, except in pictures and movies. ....

It was just before then that the refugees started arriving, but only in small groups every few weeks, and it was easy to find accommodations for them. But after the bombs were dropped, they started coming by the thousands. They came from all over, America, Britain, Germany, Japan, and every other first world country. They arrived by plane, helicopter, ship, boat, or any other means they could use to get out of their country.

After the bombs were dropped the skies clouded over, and it got cold, very cold. Soon thereafter the food shortages began. Fresh meat and vegetables were near impossible to find. Nothing would grow. Tap water wasn’t safe to drink anymore either. Stores closed their doors permanently and any that stayed open soon went out of business.....

I turned onto a road and heard a tearing sound, turned to see a man ripping open a stuffed animal as if there was something inside that he wanted. The chances of that being the case were very slim. He was probably mad. A lot of people were going mad. It was hard not to, during these times. ....

The stress was immense, caring for Helena, Max and myself, worrying about whether we had enough food and water, batteries, or any other things needed to survive. Firewood was hard to come by, and keeping warm was essential.....

When we got home, I put the water in the cupboard and opened a can of soup for Helena and me. We ate it cold. I poured the last of Max’s food into a bowl, he ate it very quickly, it was the first thing he’d eaten all day. I lit two candles, and then swore, because I had forgotten we needed more of them too. ....

As I put Helena to bed she said, “Daddy, how come the people on the other side of the world are fighting?” I didn’t answer at first because I didn’t know the full reason myself. “Because they don’t know how to use their words like I taught you.” And I kissed her on the cheek goodnight. ....