Note: This is a work of fiction. It was inspired by news stories about migrant caravans from Central America and photographs of personal belongings that were left along the way, especially the photo above of the abandoned stroller. This is a dark take, so be forewarned. It is intended as a creative way to explore the stages by which our civilized identity may be shed during a period of civilizational collapse.
What I Left on the Road
day 1—our house, second car, closets full of clothes, a fridge full of cold food, lots of books, two televisions, laptops, video game console, boxes of Christmas and Halloween decorations, family heirlooms, stuffed animals, unpaid bills on the desk, a drawer full of elementary school art projects, the answering machine with unanswered messages
day 2—three black Samsonite suitcases with extra clothes (to make room for water and canned food)
day 3—Honda Pilot SUV (out of gas) and, in the back of the car, lots of canned food and water, extra jackets and shoes, shaving kit, more books, cookbook with favorite recipes, heirloom quilt, photo album with pictures of our wedding, the births of our children, and Christmases and birthdays past
day 4
day 5
day 6
day 7
day 8
day 9
day 10—extra pair of clothes
day 11—iPhone 7 (dead for days) with charger
day 12
day 13
day 14
day 15
day 16
day 17—a thin, heavily underlined copy of Emerson’s “Self-Reliance” (why?)
day 18—addendum to things left behind on day 1: nearly full gas can, cabinets full of nonperishable food, toilet paper, can opener, emergency blanket, poncho, shovel
day 19
day 20
day 21
day 22
day 23
day 24—our wedding rings (traded)
day 25—shoes (swapped for a found pair in better condition)
day 26
day 27
day 28
day 29
day 30
day 31
day 32
day 33
day 34—my sense of disgust at food of questionable provenance
day 35
day 36
day 37
day 38
day 39
day 40
day 41
day 42
day 43
day 44
day 45
day 46
day 47
day 48
day 49—house keys on a key ring, my wallet with three credit cards, rewards cards for gas stations and the movie theater, and a fast food restaurant gift card
day 50—my unconscious sense of existential security
day 51
day 52
day 53
day 54
day 55
day 56
day 57
day 58
day 59
day 60
day 61
day 62
day 63
day 64
day 65
day 66
day 67
day 68
day 69
day 70
day 71
day 72
day 73
day 74
day 75
day 76
day 77
day 78
day 79—some of my blood
day 80
day 81
day 82
day 83
day 84
day 85
day 86
day 87
day 88
day 89
day 90
day 91
day 92
day 93
day 94
day 95
day 96
day 97
day 98
day 99
day 100
day 101
day 102
day 103
day 104
day 105
day 106
day 107
day 108
day 109
day 110
day 111
day 112
day 113
day 114—toothbrush
day 115—the person I love most in the world
day 116—my ability to pray
day 117
day 118
day 119
day 120
day 121
day 122
day 123
day 124
day 125
day 126
day 127
day 128
day 129
day 130
day 131
day 132
day 133
day 134
day 135
day 136
day 137
day 138
day 139
day 140
day 141
day 142
day 143
day 144
day 145
day 146
day 147
day 148
day 149
day 150
day 151
day 152
day 153
day 154
day 155
day 156
day 157—my driver’s license
day 158—the memory of the smell of bacon and eggs and coffee coming from my grandmother’s kitchen
day 159
day 160
day 161
day 162
day 163
day 164
day 165
day 166
day 167
day 168
day 169
day 170
day 171
day 172
day 173
day 174
day 175
day 176
day 177
day 178
day 179
day 180
day 181
day 182
day 183
day 184
day 185
day 186
day 187
day 188
day 189
day 190
day 191
day 192
day 193
day 194
day 195
day 196
day 197
day 198
day 199
day 200
day 201
day 202
day 203
day 204
day 205
day 206
day 207—the reasons why I didn’t used to do certain bad things
day 208
day 209
day 210
day 211
day 212
day 213
day 214
day 215
day 216
day 217
day 218
day 219
day 220
day 221
day 222
day 223
day 224
day 225
day 226
day 227
day 228
day 229
day 230
day 231
day 232
day 233
day 234
day 235
day 236
day 237
day 238
day 239
day 240
day 241
day 242
day 243
day 244
day 245
day 246
day 247
day 248
day 249
day 250
day 251
day 252
day 253
day 254
day 255
day 256
day 257
day 258
day 259
day 260
day 261
day 262
day 263—my recollection of the fine details of their faces
day 264—my name
day 265
day 266
day 267
day 268
day 269
day 270
day 271
day 272
day 273
day 274
day 275
day 276
day 277
day 278
day 279
day 280
day 281
day 282
day 283
day 284
day 285
day 286
day 287
day 288
day 289
day 290
day 291
day 292
day 293
day 294
day 295
day 296
day 297
day 298
day 299
day 300
day 301
day 302
day 303
day 304
day 305
day 306
day 307
day 308
day 309
day 310
day 311
day 312
day 313
day 314
day 315
day 316
day 317
day 318
day 319
day 320
day 321
day 322
day 323
day 324
day 325
day 326
day 327—a childhood memory of the backyard, thick with fireflies, and a muddy creek with crawdads and minnows
day 328—the reasons why I go on
Another End of the World is Possible 