Once upon a time, he’d felt guilt—guilt over surviving, yes, but also guilt over seeing how the world had changed and feeling at peace with it. He’d seen some value in the clarity and the purity of a quieter world, one…less choked by its human presence. But now… Now all he had was anger. He’d once regarded his survival as a kind of gift, but now it felt like a curse. The future was dirt, him and all of it chewed through by worm and ant and invasive root.
