I've always got a book on the go. They're easy to find, but most are in 'use me as fuel for the fire' condition. Half-burnt already, or mouldy, or damp with age, swelled and shrunk, crispy, stiff, stuck-together pages, covers missing, impossible to use as-intended. Finding the good ones, is a job for the determined. Currently I'm reading 'the Stand.' King had a lot right, in the first half of the book. 

I'll bet more people die from simple slips and falls, or untreated head injuries, than from Raiders or Scavv'ers, or Slavers. The impermanence of life is drawn into stark black and white in this place, in this time. I was reminded of exactly that this morning, when I approached a house, on full alert, weapon drawn, and stepped onto the porch -- trusting that 20th C engineering would be in tip-top shape, twenty years after the Fall, only to have the wood crumble under me like it was made at the beach, like a fucking sand castle. (remember the beach? Remember when people went and wore stupid costumes, swam for fun, took pic-a-nics... ?) Anyways, got a nail in my boot, a quarter inch from my skin, rusty as the day is long. 

Woulda killed me, for sure. Not quick, I don't know how long it takes tetanus to kill... maybe a couple weeks? ...but there's no tetanus shots to be had. Not anymore. 

Pulled it out, carried on. 

King had a lot wrong though. Second half of the book is complete shite. There's no big battle 'tween good and evil. That shit is for books. Ain't no good here. "God" left a long time ago. 

There wasn't even anything in the goddamn house. I woulda died for nothing.