Autumn

around and play and fight and...’
    ‘You need to switch off,’ Emma said as Michael’s voice trailed away into silence. ‘We both do. We weren’t designed for this kind of life. Your mind and body can’t cope if you keep going at full speed all the time.’
    ‘So when are you and me going to switch off then?’ he asked. ‘When are we going to be able to do something without worrying about the consequences?’
    ‘Don’t know.’
    ‘Because I think you’re right, we’re both going to need to, Em. I think that somehow we’re going to have to try and find a way to do it.’
    ‘Meditation,’ Emma suggested. ‘We could meditate in shifts.’
    ‘Are you taking the piss?’
    ‘No, I’m serious. Like you say, we’ve got to learn to switch off and disconnect from everything. If we don’t then one or even both of us will probably lose it big time.’
    ‘So when was the last time you managed to switch off and disconnect?’ he asked, semiseriously.
    Emma thought carefully for a couple of seconds.
    ‘About six months ago,’ she laughed.

    Once their frustrations had been aired and discussed, Michael and Emma talked for hours. Their long and rambling conversation covered everything and nothing.
    ‘We’re you born in Northwich, Mike?’
    ‘Just outside. What about you?’
    ‘No, I just studied there.’
    ‘Did you like it?’
    ‘It was okay.’
    ‘Just okay?’
    ‘Yes, it was okay.’
    ‘I liked it. All right so it had it’s fair share of penthouses and it’s fair share of shit-holes but everywhere does. It was home.’
    ‘I much prefer being out in a place like this. Not at the moment, of course, but before all this happened I was always happier out in the country away from the noise and the concrete and the people.’
    ‘And me. I used to try and get away as often as I could. I’d just get in the car and drive for a couple of hours and see where I ended up. I’d go and lie down in a field or walk along a river or something...’
    ‘Didn’t go fishing did you?’
    ‘No, why?’
    ‘Because I hate fishing. It’s a bloody barbaric sport.’
    ‘Bloody boring sport.’
    ‘I used to camp. I’d pack a rucksack and a tent and catch a lift to somewhere remote.’
    ‘And then what would you do.’
    ‘Nothing.’

    ‘Emma, do you miss the television?'
    ‘I miss the noise and normality of it, but not much else.’
    ‘I miss the weather.’
    ‘The weather?’
    ‘I never realised how much I relied on weather forecasts until now. I really miss knowing what the weather’s going to do next.’
    ‘Doesn’t matter anymore though, does it?’
    ‘Suppose not. It didn’t really matter anyway but I still want to know.’
    ‘Just looking at the telly switched off reminds me of everything that’s gone now.’
    ‘Did you used to watch a lot of films?’
    ‘I used to watch more films than anything else.’
    ‘And I bet you never really listened to the radio.’
    ‘No, not very often. Why?’
    ‘I’ve got this theory that people who watched a lot of films and who didn’t listen to the radio always had strong personalities.’
    ‘How do you work that out?’
    ‘Because you’re the kind of person who knows what you want if you don’t listen to the radio. If you listen to the radio you have to sit through hours of crap music, crap adverts and pointless conversations just to get to hear to a couple of minutes of something you like.’
    ‘I suppose. I’m not convinced though.’
    ‘I never listened to the radio, not even in the car. I was always a CD or cassette man. You always knew where you were with a cassette.’

    ‘So how’s this all going to end, Em?’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I don’t know. Are things ever going to sort themselves out?’
    ‘I doubt it. Bloody stupid question really.’
    ‘I know, sorry.’
    ‘I think it’ll get worse before it gets any better.’
    ‘Think so? Shit, how could it get any worse?’
    ‘Disease. There are millions of bodies lying rotting in the streets, aren’t there?’
    ‘What about insects then?’
    ‘What about them?’
    ‘Rotting bodies and more disease is going to mean more insects, isn’t it?’
    ‘It might do. Probably.’
    ‘And rats. There are going to be fucking hundreds of rats about in the cities.’

    ‘Emma, is there anybody you can think of that you’re glad is dead?’
    ‘Bloody hell, what kind of a question is that?’
    ‘Come on, be honest. Is there anyone out of all the people you knew who you’re