Image by Christine Renney
The road has disappeared entirely and Davis is unmoored and has been cast adrift. He lingers for longer now amidst the debris, sifting and kicking his way through it. He realises of course that if he is to continue he will have to be prepared and to carry provisions.
Davis searches for something with which he will be able to do this. A rucksack would be ideal or a suitcase, preferably one with wheels. But he is unable to find either of these, or even one of those sturdy carrier bags the supermarkets used to sell. ‘A Bag For Life’; that had been the motto. Davis remembers how he had always forgotten them and whenever he visited a store he would purchase another until eventually there were so many kicking around the house that he had been forced to gather them up and throw them in the dustbin. Now, when he really needed one, when he really, really needed one there were no bags for life, not out here.
Davis considers constructing something himself, anything flat with ropes attached would suffice. A makeshift sledge he could drag along behind him. But, although he isn’t sure why, it doesn’t feel right to use something he has fashioned and cobbled together. No it has to be something from before, something still intact, still useful.
Turning back Davis thinks about all the shopping carts he has passed. There were so many of them abandoned alongside the road. But Davis had stopped noticing, he had stopped seeing them.