Blowdown

The blowdown was everywhere, and the lowdown was that no one was coming to help them. Richard listened from his rooftop as his neighbors whispered in the dark.

"They don't care about us. We just some dumb spooks to all them oil-rich grown ass brats."
"Well I ain't gon' die up here."
"Lotsa people's dyin'."
"They shot some who was just tryin' t'git food out the corner store."
"I'm hungry."

As Richard lay on his back and stared up at the stars, he wondered where his wife was, if she was safe, if she was wondering about him. They hadn't been married long. There was still cake from the wedding sitting in their fridge.

No, he reminded himself, there was nothing. Nothing left of their house, of the new life they had just started together. The house on which he sat was junk now, only useful for keeping him out of the dirty, dangerous waters. He sighed and tried to think of something else.

His mind connected the dots like stars, making her teeth, her smile, her eyes, her hair. The image of her face soothed him, and he thought maybe he would be able to sleep that night after all. Worries could wait, he figured. They'd still be there in the morning.