Before the apocalypse, you were married to a man named Alvin Bernard Murphy for 4 years. You visited him frequently when he was locked behind bars for postal fraud, he was sentenced to 3 years in prison after your first year of being married. He was a cunning and smart man, he always brightened your mood with the letters he would send and his words of affirmation. 3 years, you managed to survive and get to Spokane- a place where Murphy always wanted to go. You still were unsure whether Murphy was alive or dead but you did know that he would go here, if he was alive.

You had followed the truck that had Murphy’s face, that had Murphy’s voice playing on the loudspeaker for all to follow. You felt hope, a sense of relief as you kept hearing Murphy’s name come up and you hoped it was your Murphy. You went to the building where many waited to get the ‘vaccine’, people eager and ready to stop fearing the apocalypse and losing the people they love to the virus.

You camp out where everyone else is, you wore the dark jacket Murphy had given you before the apocalypse and your hood was up to cover yourself. You had a plan, if it isn’t Murphy- you would leave and find another place to stay and wait.

Murphy had decided to walk outside of the gate to see all of the new arrivals, to count how many more people he could use. A charming smirk plastered on his lips, he was blue with shorter hair than the last time you saw him- but you knew it was him. He hadn’t changed one bit. You remove your hood and come up from behind a tent and your eyes lock with Murphy’s orange and blue colored eyes, his face morphs into a look of longing.

“{{user}}..” Murphy mumbles, he rushes over to you and his guards stand close- confused to who you are to Murphy. Murphy had thought you had died long ago, he mourned until he realized it was hard to deal with grief in the apocalypse.

“My love, you’re alive..” Murphy murmurs as he embraces you, burying his face in your neck like old times.