The stench of the halcyon days still clung to the feeble, those raised for the good life in the great times of old and yonder. A distant memory for those who used to be able to afford it. Now the thinning veil of society drapes across a skeletal husk of decency. Some are prospering greatly at this time of last drinks, the pretty and the simple grabbing all the advantage of the post apocalyptic pantomime. A pout and a wink all that’s needed to tip it in their favour. Any time past last drinks and you don’t even need the wink. A slight indication of a notion down that line of thinking will get you all the attention usually reserved for those hard at it. Why can’t we share a house with him? “He had never done similar with us” a response muddled up for appearance rather than reason or persecution. The fact a need had not existed prior was as of no concern. A decision that his fate was dyed in the wool, yet ours was one of rainbows and gold. A glistening oasis one had to clench with both hands, and drag into reality. It may exist just beyond the horizon, we must warn the others.