Prompt: Write a 300 word story in the epic genre. It's about an old man in love and should include a poster. Also use the sentence 'Thanks for nothing.' Bonus prompt: Civilization has come to an end.
“So then I tell him, I did, "Thanks for nothing." And you know what he did?” Warren didn’t wait for an answer as he picked his way carefully over the rubble, dragging the sled behind him. “He told me it was the least he could do. That’s when I slugged him with the pipe.”
He worked his way over to a likely looking pile of debris, poking at it with the steel rod that doubled as a cane. “I don’t know, Lizzie,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m thinking it might be time to start working a new section. It’s been pretty slim pickings lately.”
Using the rod as a poker, he moved some of the detritus aside. His eyes lit up. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
He grasped the aluminum sheet and worked it out from under the wreckage piled on top of it. It was easily three feet by three feet, and hardly dented at all. One side had a poster with the slogan, “Kindness Matters” stuck to it. Warren grinned, it would add a decorative touch to the shelter.
“Couple more like this and I can finish the shelter, Lizzie.”
He spent the rest of the day moving back and forth across the debris field and though he found several pieces worthy of collection, none was as good as his first find of the day.
“I tell you, Lizzie, this sure isn’t the way I expected to spend my retirement,” Warren said as he headed back to the shelter.
The shelter was a work in progress, the third such shelter he’d built since the end of the world. The first had been a pitiful attempt and simply fallen apart. The second had been much more solid, but hadn’t been able to withstand the hurricane force winds that had swept through what was left of the city.
“I promise you, Lizzie. This shelter will be built to last. And it’s only until you’re feeling better. Then we’ll try our luck in the farmlands, just like I promised.”
Warren unloaded the sled and swiped a hand across his forehead. “Looks like it’s going to be another hot one today, Lizzie. What do you say I scrounge us up something to eat?”
He rummaged through the old metal strong box they used for their valuables. “Look what I found,” he said, triumphantly holding up a chocolate bar. “It just happens to be your favourite too. Wanna share?”
Securing the lock again he chuckled. “I didn’t think so. Oh, the things I do for love.”
He tossed the bar to Lizzie where she lay under the half built shelter. It landed on her mummified chest where it teetered for a second before sliding off.
“Don’t eat it all at once,” he advised her, and imagined her smiling at him in return.
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