you look like hell

western civilization

everything closed at nine or ten, even the hundred year old diner that had been open twenty-four hours back when teddy roosevelt was president. 

we didn't like that much but we made the best of it, hunkering down on a concrete ledge behind a strip mall. we set our coffee and books down on the ground followed by our cigarettes after we slightly lessened the burden borne by the four flimsy cardboard walls surrounding them.

our faces were washed out in a thin orange haze that came from the lights above the shipping and receiving doors along the wall and the dust and dirt floating around the air.  we looked ghastly in a strange, sick way. western civilization, however, looked no different. 

our academic pursuits wore out their welcome as cups of coffee became lukewarm, then cold. lighted cigarettes were a constant all the while. 

"hey chuck, what are you going to do with this is all over and done with?" i asked. 

chuck struck a match and lit another cigarette. "i don't know. i was thinking about maybe getting my masters in linguistics, moving to russia or israel...something like that."

i nodded and leaned against the wall. blinked a few times. smoke stings my eyes. 

"yeah?" i asked.

"yeah, i'll need to get out of here by then."

"if you're still alive." i laughed a little after saying that. chuck did too. 

"if any of us are still alive by then."

"yeah." i agreed. 

he started flipping through his textbook lit dimly by the light overhead and stopped at the map of america right in the center of the book, the one that took up two whole pages.

"how long do you think we can pull this off, keep things going the way they are?"

chuck pressed the burning ashen end of his cigarette against the page, right on los angeles.

"i have no idea." he answered.

"yeah, me neither." i said, flicking my cigarette butt away.

chuck closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. i struck another match.

he let the page burn.