Recoiling in disgust, I harshly stared at my hideous reflection in a puddle. My unwashed hair fell, matted, around my shoulders, knotted and greasy. I sighed and pulled a hair band off my wrist and scraped my unsightly hair into a messy bun. At least it was out of my face.
Stepping over my makeshift mirror, I took a small sip of my foraged water from a hip flask. The whiskey had run out months ago. I tightened the grip of the velcro on my thigh which held in place my weapon. I had sewn velcro into my pants because I knew I'd need to have my axe out at short notice but I couldn't always hold it in my hands. Of course, I had other weapons. I had a combat knife, clipped next to my hip flask as well as a hammer and a handgun (which I hadn't used yet) in my backpack.
Adjusting my leather fingerless gloves, I lifted my chin and proceeded down the littered pathway back home. I made a mental note to myself to maybe clean the filthy streets. I had nothing better to do and it would make the area easier to live in; especially since the rest of the world was equally as grim. As I arrived at my cul-de-sac, the sun was setting, an orange-yellow sight. You really would never had guessed that the apocalypse had taken place. I stopped in my tracks and let out a sigh of admiration of the beautiful sun's resilience. Feeling a slight chill on my bare shoulders, I resumed my pace and reached my front gate. I yawned, setting foot on my doorstep, glancing at my watch which showed 21:12. I unclipped the carabiner on my set of keys from my trousers belt loop and unlocked my front door to find him in my house.
Sitting on the stairs.
A smile on his face.
Staring at me.