The Apocalypse Woman

I am constantly trying to accept the possibility that I might be the last human woman. I hope not. In any case, I am one of the few women left, and I feel obligated to take advantage of the opportunity to define what it is to be female. I haven’t decided what that means yet. Gender doesn’t really matter anymore. Rok and I both have the main objective of survival. Lots of things have changed about being a typical girl. I can’t say I ever was one, but I’ve had to change a lot of my old “feminine” habits. For one thing, clothes that look attractive have completely given way to clothes that will keep you from dying or worse. Living in Arizona, there is a constant struggle between wearing clothes that are light and sparse enough to keep you cool and clothes that offer a lot of coverage in case a Zombie tries to take a bite out of you. I usually compromise with tank tops and pants with the added protection of high leather boots to protect my feet and shins and longarm fireplace gloves. I miss dresses and skirts, but the less skin you show the better. Rok’s a completely different matter. He would probably shoot zombies in his boxers. He’s not as worried about getting bit as I am, but I’m a bit more paranoid about it. It’s really not as big a threat as one would think. They’re slow enough now that you can just kick or punch them away if they get too close.
Another issue that comes up in regards to my sex, is my relationship with Rok. He’s not the worst last man on Earth. He’s never said anything directly, but who wouldn’t be thinking about it under the circumstances, (he told you about the condom thing right?) and even though he’s really sweet, and even though he’s reading this over my shoulder, I’d turn him down. Don’t get me wrong, the apocalypse makes you horny. There’s no way of getting around it. That thing they say about near death experiences is true. Nothing is more life affirming than getting it on, but in every damn horror or sci-fi film, the girl’s first inclination is to run into the arms of the man for protection and inevitably a good shag. I’m changing that on both accounts. If not for anyone else, just for my own knowledge that I’m changing the role of the apocalypse woman first hand.

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