Man soll den Tag nicht vor dem Abend loben

[Frozen Smoke]

((Lara Bullock continued from Breakdown in the Meantime))

Lara slowly pulled apart the hollow green cuboid between her fingers, the foil packaging reflected stark white torchlight back into her eyes whilst the memory of its contents earlier in the day sat uneasily in her stomach. 1800 calories. FDA guidelines put the recommendation for her at about 2000, which was horseshit for people who drove and sat at a desk all day, she knew her body well enough to happily put what she needed at about 2600 if she was working.

She had two left.

Starvation was not instant, of course, she knew of many people who had survived without food for weeks. The problem was that her supplies mirrored that of anyone else who had failed to add to them, which meant that anyone who had things to take had probably already taken things themselves, and thus were going to be more difficult to overcome. Somehow, despite everything, she had ended up no better than the baseline.

7 days, and all she’d gained were cuts on her face which stung no matter which way she tried to sleep on, and a blister on her shoulder from where the cheap rubber pad of the duffel bag had dug into it over her travels. All her plans had fallen apart so slowly, and yet all at once, even her schedule had run away from her. Without a watch she only had no way of knowing if it was 5pm or 10pm, except by how heavy her eyes felt, and they had felt heavy for all of what little embrace the sun had offered her today.

Where had it all gone so wrong?

She stifled a yawn as she contemplated that. Micah had been a set back for sure, but try as she might it was impossible to stop herself from thinking fondly of her time with Chloe. Even Madeline had made the cabin feel warmer. If only they had understood that they needed to be cold to win, maybe they would be already ahead together, sitting the worst of it out in safety somewhere with a pile of other people’s bags - eating well and laughing.

The yawn dissipated into a sigh as her thumb smoothed out some of the wrinkles in the now untorn and flattened rectangle, floorboards creaking underneath her as she her weight from once shoulder to the other, flipping it so she could see the shiny side of the wrapper. It was too smeared with grease or whatever preservatives had been slathered onto the thing with to make out many of her details, but she could see the colours - her pale flesh, intercut with messy rivulets of yellow-brown hair, and a patchwork of white from her bandages. For a few moments when the light hit it right, she almost thought she could see specks of blue from her eyes.

She folded the foil over, dull side out, sealing her reflection away. Looking back was only going to make things worse.

Lara would have to find a new advantage to leverage.

((Continued in Boundries))