I cocked the gun and readied it as I reached for the doorhandle. I pulled the handle and pointed the gun inside as I yelled out infury. Then I heard, ...No, No don't eat me please! Please don't kill me!"Then I knew I had found another survivor. I lowered the gun and pointedthe light down at the person. I saw a boy around 10 or 11 laying on thefloor in a defensive posture hoping I wasn't going to hurt him. He was asmaller boy with dark blonde short hair and blue eyes with tear streakedcheeks. I. Our Saturday evenings don’t change very much any more. Over the years we have settled into a pretty standard routine. The evening always starts out about five o’clock. We all help get dinner ready, then we eat, and we even wash the dishes afterwards. Once things are taken care of in the kitchen we go to the laundry room and get completely undressed. Mom insists that we remove every article of clothing and put them in the washing machine. Then and only then could we go around the house together. More

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