Awaken

You awaken in your bed. It is a box spring mattress compressed by a millennia of repose. Light streams faintly into your room from a window to illuminate dull concrete walls. A mass of cobwebs flaps and glitters occasionally above your head. You used to clear away these things when you were younger, but your mother told you once that spiders eat the less pleasant bugs, the louses and flies that whisper in the dark to transform your dreams into nightmares.

 

You remember suddenly that today is a day of dread and glory. It is your birthday, and you are finally old enough to venture alone among the wrecked causeways of the city to scavenge for treasure and feed your people. You have prepared for this day your entire life.

What will you do?