Quoted By:
“God damn it!”
You stand up and flip the table, sounds of rage involuntarily escaping through your teeth as you stand sweating. Your son covers his ears, your daughter is smart enough not to say anything and simply gets out of the way already distressed enough, and your wife looks on.
It takes only a moment for you to look up to your family and see their reactions, it instantly grounds you, your breathing steadies and your eyes widen as you stand in the doorway. You look across the bunker and stare straight into your wife’s eyes, needing something else to focus on.
“The uh..the beans.” You breathe out, on the verge of collapsing.
“What?”
“Our son. He uh..he spilled some beans in the pantry. Can you get on that, please? I’ll..I’ll pick up here.”
“Okay.”
You pick up the table along with the radio that had fallen on the ground before. You give it a once over to make sure it’s working. Thankfully nothing managed to break it.
As you stand at your table, thinking of your next move. Your daughter lowers her voice to ask you a question. “Dad.”
“The man in the plane? Is he..dead?”
“Can’t say for sure, he was low enough, we just need to wait and see okay? It’ll be alright.” You lie, you have to.
