A Day in the Wasteland

By: Lunarbreaker

Scavenging in the ruins, the Wanderer startles.

Alerted, her head swivels from side-to-side.

Seeing nothing, she goes back to her circle.

"I must be losing it," she thought inside.

Scavenging, you see, is all you can do in this life.

For 200 years ago, all had been destroyed;

Radioactivity, cutting the air like a knife,

Nuclear bombs, creating nothing but a void.

"Scavenging is all I can do," thought the Wanderer.

But there was something else amiss in this place,

For her attention should have been across the river.

Insurgents, marauders, creeping with little-to-no grace.

Rifles cocked; and with no hesitation, placed occiput.

"a'ite 'ands up," was said, but the Wanderer gave no response.

"Swiftly," she thought, whipping around with soot,

Right in the eye, she left with little nonchalance.

Scavenging, such a risky business to commence,

"To Rivet City then," she whispered, and sprinting with much haste,

She headed there with a mysterious sixth-sense,

With a hope, this time, to not be displaced.

This had happened thrice as it were,

Once by a peers, once by fauna, and once by herself;

"This is the only way to live," she came to concur.

Hope, ever present, but only as big as an elf.

"Scavenging, so easy," many thought this to be true,

However, only to a specialist is this correct,

For many neophytes, this idea was askew,

As seen by the many bodies one could expect

Arriving at the city, all she could see was terror,

It seems as though slavers have attacked,

The town's defenses having met a critical error,

And all of those inside, dead or enslaved.

Scavenging, once more, seems to be the only way.

In this Wasteland, this ending is commonplace,

For most it seems unlikely to see the day,

When these ruins will no longer be the case.

Ducking in for the night, the Wanderer finds a shack,

But little rest will be upon her this night,

With her nerves, still high post-attack,

Praying to see a new dawn's daylight.

Scavenging in the ruins, the Wanderer stands firm,

"Today shall be different," she thought this day.

For this would be the epoch were she would affirm,

A bed of peace, where her head may lay.