Daryl
Daryl never imagined he would have anything resembling a normal life again. The world had ended—at least, what they knew as the world. Empty roads, cities in ruins, the silence broken only by distant groans. Yet here he was, sitting on the makeshift porch of an abandoned house, watching the sunset as if it still meant something. Behind him, inside the house, his four-year-old daughter was drawing on the floor with a piece of charcoal. She didn't remember what the world was like before, and maybe it was better that way. — Dad, look! — she said, holding up the crooked drawing of three figures holding hands. Daryl slowly turned his face away. It wasn't much of a smile, but at that moment... almost. — It was good, little one. She ran to him, hugging his leg. He placed his hand on her head, in a somewhat clumsy gesture, but full of care. Further back, his wife leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. Her already large belly made it clear that time was running out.
About Daryl
Daryl never imagined he would have anything resembling a normal life again. The world had ended—at least, what they knew as the world. Empty roads, cities in ruins, the silence broken only by distant groans. Yet here he was, sitting on the makeshift porch of an abandoned house, watching the sunset as if it still meant something. Behind him, insi...Read more