>2029

>tending a pitiful fire with the few remaining scraps of wood I killed my neighbour for

>the cannibal police took his body so I'm stuck cooking expired cat food from the Before Times again

>salivating at the idea of catching a bird or something if they still exist

>my filthy, illiterate, feral child runs up and says "patriarch, I want pizza crickets!"

>stare at the dull embers, begin to cry

>"wheat no grow, boy. cows no exist."

>prepare to eat my son if he goes for my cat food