Page 4 of The Cull


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  Ophelia woke up in the middle of the night. She had acquired an ability to survive on very little sleep since adopting a raw food diet. She grew and ate her own food so she didn't have to succumb to the will of Proco telling her what and when she could eat. Essentially a free spirit, Ophelia managed to carve out a niche existence for herself and one other person in her life. She hoped Abe would soon join her. She grabbed a glass of green juice from the cooler and sat down to write her blog. 'Some things come easily when you think they will,' she wrote. 'Sitting here, waiting for my Abe to come home.'

  The flow of writing was interrupted by a chance glance of a sticky note on the side of the screen, reminding her that she needed to send Abe a confirmation of the train times. A click and it was sent. Ophelia survived by creating lists. It was a habit that she had nurtured much to the chagrin of those around her but they, nevertheless, put up with her somewhat controlling nature. She was inherently a good natured soul, a quality which had become depressingly sparse since the competition for basic resources turned the majority of the population very hostile. Friends were defined as those that helped you eat when food wasn't available and enemies were those that stole food from your property. A dinner party was only ever held at Christmas and the scarcity of food meant that it was considered decadent to have more than two guests.

  She poured another glass of green juice, snapped a photo and uploaded it onto her blog with the caption 'What Abe will be drinking soon...gotta get him fit and healthy.' She immediately received a couple of responses. The sun was beginning to lurk behind the night before it swooped down, arousing the morning. It was late October and the days slugged to a different pace. She jumped into the shower to get ready for work in her home office where she translated documents or provided administrative services to clients on the internet. Most days, she never left her house but that didn't bother her. She had developed a routine with such precision that she often wondered how or why people had ever felt the need to commute to a place of work. She was mostly indifferent to what had become of the people of the world. They were mostly too horrid for her disposition so she did everything she could to avoid them. The look of hatred and despair that she met in their eyes made it impossible for her to enjoy the world without diving into a sense of hopelessness. So, she did everything she could to conserve her energies. Ophelia was a gentle soul and she didn't want to deal with the world as it had become so she avoided it at all costs.
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