Hey, it’s me again, Rusty Sprocket. This is the third journal entry that I’ve written since becoming a young adult in post-apocalyptic Murkland. I say this so that you know what I’m going through, and I repeat myself just in case. I don’t know if all of my journal pages will stand the test of time, so I continue writing every day with a sense of this is me, I hope you’re listening and getting it all, but you never know what the future holds.
I hope that it holds brighter things. My wish is that the economy can get fixed and that we can move on and repurpose the world. I hope that we can save the world from the mutations that plague it. That we can clean up the earth and return it to a state of green growing things.
That the atmosphere will clear up and we won’t be surrounded with toxic dust storms anymore. But these are wishes, hopes, and dreams. Right now, the reality is that I need to continue taking care of myself. I collect things that make the world brighter. like flowers, fruits, and creatures. I will take care of them, I will sell them to those that can make something out of them to help the world grow.
I will make money until I can be in a position myself to better this world.
My plot of land that was given to me by the MMCo (Murkland Mercantile Company) came with the clause that I am only to grow trash plants as they are the staple crop of Murkland. But the wild plants that grow around town are okay. I pick them and I sell or eat them. Mostly my plan is to sell them. I am surviving well enough on my own. I have since I was young and my parents passed away leaving me to fend for myself. Carrots, and lemons are not a necessity for me.
But they are a treat for others. So I walk around town and harvest them. The MMCo has given me a table in which I can set up shop and other Murklanders know that it means something good is there to be purchased so they will stop and grow the economy by spending cash on delicacies.
Other things like fossils aren’t in such high demand. But I’ve noticed that some people like myself like to look at our history and see how that can help us progress into the future. Maybe they just like looking at them. They’re interesting rocks.
But they’re just rocks. Without any information on them, it is hard to know what makes them more than just pretty to look at. I’m hoping I can find a book about them at the library some time. Right now I can’t afford to go yet. I used to sneak books when I was little, and I would skim them. Mostly I know that they have something to do with creatures that lived long before us. Probably even from before the world got destroyed.
I’ve mentioned this before, but not many books are left. Paper has rotted away, and we don’t have many electronics left. It’s a shame. I feel that there is knowledge there that we could use that is sadly lost to us.
Gemstones are far more interesting to me. Their purpose is to look pretty. People cut at them and make jewelry, and so they are worth a lot. I love when I can find some around Murkland, because I know that means I’m going to have a good selling day. Today feels like one of those days. In fact… I know it’s going to be one of those days. I’m going to set up a booth across from my plot of land. I’ve noticed that many people walk through my part of the neighborhood, it should be a perfect location to attract some business.
But first I need to change, so I’m ending this portion of the journal as I eat a light lunch. I found some oatmeal in one of the garbage cans, and it is a nice meal when combined with the trash plant fruit I harvested.
The morning had still been chilly from the desert night’s cold temperatures, but it warmed up around noon when I set up shop. So I wanted to change into something fancy to catch attention so many customers would come to browse my table. The more people attracted to my table, the more money in my own pocket that I could spread into the economy.
That guy Mortimer was wandering around again and stopped by. He wanted a flower or two for his wife to make her happy.
Than a Mad Mudder stopped by the table. His name is Gash. I think he’s the same one that I talked to on the bench the other day, but I’ve noticed that there are several of them and they look near identical. I’m having a hard time telling them apart still. But Gash was very flirty, so I think it’s him.
The one on the bench had definitely been a little flirty with me. But, even though it probably could have gotten me some sales to flirt back with him, I’m not looking for romance right now. I tried to brush him off lightly and just be friendly. He took it really well.
I really think he and I are going to be good friends someday. I enjoy all of our conversations.
More and more customers continued to stop by. I was glad I had managed to collect so many things all morning because I was able to keep the table stocked and customers interested. The only frustration was when a zombie came up to the table.
He was rather rude and kept grunting at me and not really saying much. The other customers left me alone with him saying they had buisness elsewhere. I don’t blame them, we have a lot to do in Murkland every single day just in order to survive. But I feel like maybe they were just avoiding the zombie guy.
I tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but he wasn’t having any of it. So I tried a sales pitch and he just stared at me blankly.
Maybe he can’t actually talk like the girl I met the other day could?
At least more customers came and stopped by despite him standing there. One of them was leather jacket guy. He wasn’t being mean today, in fact, he was smiling at me. Was it even the same guy? He seemed to have a completely different personality than the one that was at the Hot Springs. Maybe there were two of them, but gosh they looked the same. I waved shyly and asked him how his day was going and if he would like to look at what I was selling.
I gotta say though, he was pretty handsome. I could feel a blush creeping into my cheeks and I had to cough and turn back to my table and indicate the things that I still had for sale before I did something stupid. I have to stick to just taking care of myself, no relationships. I can’t afford that right now.
Finally, as the sun set, I went back across the street to my plot of land and tucked into a late night scavanged oatmeal, relieved myself in a bush, and then headed into my tent for some much needed shut-eye. I will write again tomorrow. This is Rusty Sprocket. I will survive this apocalyptic world.