I rest my head against a brick wall. It’s the 6th time I’ve done so since I left my house. My ribs stick so far out they may as well be a bird cage, my feet cracked from walking. The horses have long since been eaten anyway. Miserable men sit outside their homes in much the same state as me in a feeble attempt to protect their families from the savages roaming the streets at night for food.

The luggage I’m carrying doesn’t exactly make it easier to make my way back, let alone the blood in my eyes. I must’ve fallen along the way and cut my forehead, but I don’t remember exactly when. I arrive back at my home and my child runs out to greet me. ‘Run’ is probably too strong a word actually, more so a hobble.

I drag the luggage inside and unwrap it. My daughters eyes light up as she lays eyes on the feast before her, a full slab of meat! My wife quickly tenderises the meat and we eat gleefully, the first smiles any of us have had in a long time. The skin of the meat does no such thing. Sad really, he was always such a cheerful boy.