I was staring out of our kitchen window into the street when Dad cornered me. I had been thinking about what lay beyond the walls, and if I could transpose the view to a non-apocalypse scenario, what would I see?

I am still not used to not seeing any cars out in the street, he said, ninja-ing up behind me. I was really losing my form. And apparently my mind could now be read.

Now, I don’t want you to get upset – he started.

Said every person who is about to upset someone, I finished.

Come sit with me, he said, pulling out a chair. He didn’t mince around. I have heard you have been heading out, alone.

Ugh, I groaned, flopping my head onto the tabletop. It is not a big deal, Dad. I am old enough, and there are hardly any out there.

It isn’t always them I am worried about.

If the world was back to the way it was, what would you be letting me do now, you know, age-appropriate?

Dad shrugged. You’d probably have your driver’s permit.

See? That seems FAR more dangerous than me getting some exercise in a mildly zombie-infested area.

Have you seen any?

Not a one.

Dad made an interested ‘hmmm’ sound. Maybe they are nearly gone. Except for us, waiting to die.

Well that was a cheery thought. It has been this way for a while, though. I said, so why do you think the world hasn’t gone back to ‘normal’? I totally gave it air quotes. Surely whoever is in charge out there is doing something?

A faraway look came into dad’s eyes. When your mother was pregnant with Dep, she loved sardines in tomato sauce. They came packed tightly in a little tin, these tiny, smelly fish. All the different brands, all in their tins. And it would get me to thinking, all these fish in tins in this one supermarket. Multiply that by all the supermarkets in town, then the state, the country. The whole world. JUST the sardines, being taken out of the water for us to mindlessly consume. And then the industry to create those tins. It made me wish Mother Earth would fling us all off into space.

Ooookay? I wasn’t sure where Dad was going with this.

Perhaps this is our punishment. It keeps us scared, contained and sustainable. I am not so sure this world isn’t actually better. Sure I don’t wanna have my brains eaten but in the old world, there was plenty more to be afraid of.

So. We’re cool with me going out alone, then? I said brightly, changing the subject.

Dad slumped back in his chair and scrubbed his hand over his face. Fine, whatever. Just don’t drink and drive and use protection!

God, he’s a weirdo, sometimes.