Waiting for the big restart.
Imagining a corner pocket with the lights off, all drinks served room temperature. Harmonica in my pocket, an acoustic leaning on a seat made of worn leather. No politics, no war, no religion, no John Lennon songs necessary. Just empty homes and never-watched, stocked pharmacies. Walk-ins preferred, no prescription necessary.

Boredom would be our only enemy, bibles our note paper. God packed up and left. It's a great neighborhood to raise your kids.
Nobody needs a bomb shelter when the bombs have all fallen.
Sitting in a lawn chair, with a good friend and no cares, watching nature retake her world.

I am waiting for that day to come.