Day Nine Hundred Thirty One #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We are on to something. Our new track showed indications of the passage of wheeled vehicles. The first we have seen out here. And the other oddity of late has been the complete absence of drones.

Elijah is excited. He believes we may make contact tomorrow. I admit I feel the same way, but I don’t know what to expect. For I really don’t know what to make of those huge wheel tracks. Somehow I don’t think the people we are looking for would have access to anything like the vehicles that made them.

On another topic, the sighting of two pigeons brought forth memories of our pair – Rufus and Clarissa. Elijah fell silent for quite a spell after that.

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Day Nine Hundred Sixteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We were on lockdown still when he left to take up the thread on our queries. He left me with a whole set of drone components to tinker with. It kept my hands busy and my mind occupied.

Elijah even lent a hand, off and on. It reminded me of the days when I knew Elijah as Lyle, and he called me ‘Enough.’ Back when we built a pair of drones. And left the city behind for the mountain.

When I voiced my recollection, Elijah said it elicited a different memory for him. It made him miss his pigeons, Rufus and Clarissa.

And that touchstone released a new flood of memories about people we hope to see again before long.

Day Two Hundred Forty Three Late Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Elijah writes:

Need to take the next step.

I noted from which direction the pigeons brought the food. It was the same by which they returned.

Set my course.

Day Two Hundred Forty One Afternoon #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Enoch writes:

Ended my fast today with fruit from the date palms. The dates are sweet.

As I ate, two pigeons joined me and begged to eat.

Day Twenty One #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle was still indecisive this morning. He lingered by his pigeon cote and wouldn’t eat. I finally recalled why I came in the first place.

I told why I had sought him out.  He remembers the one who told me about him, and exacted the promise from me to attempt to find him. And when I added that she is waiting for him somewhere in the north…

Well, that was all it took. He had everything together in the blink of an eye. And released all of his charges, save one. That he placed in a special single cage, which will sit quite comfortably atop his pack.

I soon had us retracing my steps to the bridge that points northward.

Day Twenty #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle is torn. He would go with me if not for his concern for his pigeons. I counter with the observation that I see them getting along just fine without him. Not to be unkind of course, but just point it out.

Besides, I add that he should consider Him who clothes the flowers of the field. And get a proper estimation of his real place in the scheme of things.

We make a short foray beyond the warning signs to retrieve the foodstuffs that I had stashed and look for others.

About the time we turned back, I sensed in him the desire to continue on outward. I mentioned this, back under the bridge. He says it’s true, but…

Day Nineteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle is an affable soul. Hard to get to know though. In that we have a lot in common.

He is losing his distrust for me. It helped when I produced some food to feed his pigeons.

There are shelves under this bridge as there were with the second. An ideal arrangement in which to set up living quarters and a pigeon cote.

Lyle was so busy tending his charges, he did not notice the mass exodus from the city. And the posted toxic warnings kept the area around him free from curiosity.

Our conversation convinces me that he knows the right direction.

So I blurted out the question to him. Did he want to accompany me? Again I wait.

Day Eighteen #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

This morning I took a closer look at the area surrounding the bridge. From a distance of course. It seems there are even more toxic warning signs than I saw yesterday, especially in the vicinity of the bridge proper.

I was at the point of departing, when a figure appeared from somewhere under the bridge. It was a human, and put up another toxic warning sign. I waved to him (for indeed it was  a man), but he first pretended not to see me, then frantically sought to wave me away.

I decided that the warning signs were bogus and he later admitted it when I went down there after him. He’s got pigeons, but won’t discuss anything until tomorrow.