Like usual, my mind asked a billion questions. Is he going to leave me? Is he going to say we can’t see each other anymore? Is he moving in with Lexi? Did he tell someone that he and I slept together? Is he going away? Fear took over me again.It wasn’t a fear of him. It was the kind of fear that I feel when something that is unknown is about to happen. The ice cold tension in my chest builds upon itself as time goes on. That fear turned into courage.I reached over to the volume control. I pressed it down, and the music shut off. “Why are we out here?” I said. My ears finally stopped ringing. He drove the car to the side of the road, putting it in park. He took a deep breath, “There’s something I want to tell you… but I don’t know how to say it.” He unfastened his seatbelt and I followed. The ice cold tension in my chest got stronger. “You say that a lot…”He was silent for a while, looking away from me. He stared out into the distance of the forest ahead.“I’ve missed you,” he said. I was startled to notice the Colony's toilet paper carried designs which matched the natural floral patterns baked into the ceramic tiles.In the sport of survivalism, you win if you don't die. While I'm miles away from mastering details of play, I have a hunch there are no sections devoted to designer toilet paper in any Prepper's Manual. My head hurt thinking about it.The joy I felt at no longer being Sheila's "guest-prisoner" quickly faded as the ongoing war in my gut went nuclear. I sort of recall a post-midnight kitchen raid as Darlene, Serena, StarShine, and I foraged for snacks and goodies. Anything to feed a wicked case of the munchies. Kitchen-Karma got its revenge as my stomach bubbled, gurgled, and churned like a science project gone bad. I clamped my jaws shut and fought the urge to hurl."Oh my fucking word, this sucks," I groaned. I couldn't think of a worse way to start a day. Foolish me. Diarrhea, the third Rider of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, hangover style,.
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