Day two of the write-every-day-athon. There is no formal direction to this writing: my usual m.o. Who knows what will happen to darling Finn? ;)

She moved past the parking lot of her apartment building and gazed out further down the road. She didn’t even hear the freeway noises nearby.

Finn fumbled in her purse and reached for her cellphone. No reception. Of course not – why would there be? It was the end of the world.

Or, no. That wasn’t quite it, was it? It was just the end of…everyone else. Or, maybe it was hyperbole. I mean, sure, it was a little weird there was nobody else about and there were no cars on the road. Maybe there would be someone at the grocery store. Oh, surely there would be! Old people loved to grocery shop in the morning.

Resolved, Finn got in her car, and pulled out of her complex. She waited stubbornly until the light turned green before gunning it to the closest grocery store.

The weird thing was, Finn thought, I have my car. Obviously, it wasn’t a Day-The-Earth-Stood-Still thing where cars stopped working and that’s why there was nobody out. Maybe it was like that one Twilight Zone episode where all the old people were on the boat and they had to kick the young people out at midnight!

Finn frowned. Was that a Titanic story? She wasn’t on the Titanic. No, that was no good as an explanation.

Her thoughts were making her tired. Finn concentrated on driving, although there wasn’t much to concentrate on. The street lights were performing their usual duties, blinking red and green and yellow just as if there were ghostly people still driving about in unseen cars.

At one of the stoplights, she heard the raucous screeching of birds overhead. She stopped the car, and stared up two crows, wheeling rapidly in the sky overhead. Where they going to attack!

But of course they didn’t. Finn settled back into the seat and continued on to the store.

As she expected, there were no cars in the store parking lot. The lights inside were still on. Taking a deep breath, Finn entered, and knew immediately that there was nobody else in the store but herself, not even old people who liked to shop in the morning.

She fidgeted in her heels, and then kicked them off, and sat on one of the motorized shopping carts for the disabled. Was she afraid? Oh, Finn could not deny it. All alone! But…but why?

“You’re not going to find out just sitting around on your duff.” Finn declared. It was one of her few great strengths that she dealt with things as they were, and only resorted to emotions when all else failed.

Of course, then, that was regular life. Without anyone to see her, or anyone to shame her into regretting her obvious and terminal humanity, Finn sat in the shopping cart and cried fitfully for a few minutes until it passed. Then, she sat up. And realized how very comfortable the seat actually was.

Sniffing, she bounced on the cushy faux-leather (posh!) experimentally. Then, looking down, she saw a button activating it.

Hrm. She couldn’t very well get in trouble, could she? And anyway, she was kind of hungry. Being late had meant she skipped her morning bagel.

So the first morning of her new life all alone in the great big world, Finn Lee thieved from the grocery store a pint of pulpy orange juice, a carton of oatmeal raisin muffins, and a package of Twinkies (Finn had logically concluded with nobody around to tell her otherwise, Twinkies were now designated a mental-health food), and rode out of the store with her loot in her brand new comfy-seated motorized shopping cart.