Joel was starving.

He was the last cannibal left, and he was worried that when he died there’d be no one left alive to eat him.

Joel missed his friends and family.

They were all gone, and he’d learned some things from them dying and him and whoever else was left at the time eating them, only for them to die later and Joel to eat them, too.

They were all gone, and Joel had learned some things about missing them, things he was learning even while some of them were still alive, back when they were only dying.

He wondered, if it wasn’t too cold maybe he and his friends and family could physically fuck each other, and be able to produce their own food for the rest of their lives, since they couldn’t grow crops in ice, since they weren’t smart enough to hunt animals they couldn’t see because no animals roamed the frozen landscape.

He wondered why he never thought about that before, now that they were all gone and he missed them.

“Don’t touch that,” Joel said.

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