Day 39: Clone Alone

It’s difficult keeping up home repair during the apocalypse.

Jace and Jase did their best, though. They liked to have a good-looking place. Also, they needed to fortify it in case of raiders, mutants, etc. There was a lot of house work to do.

“Do you think that maybe having such an immaculate interior makes the raiders want to, you know, raid us?” Jason asked, dusting the counter tops.

“Would you rather live in a sty?” Jacen asked, hammering fine oak boards over the windows. “Like straight people?”

“If it keeps us from being eaten by cannibals, then maybe it’s a worthy sacrifice.”

“We’re clones, love. They’ll never bother us. They’ll be too worried we’ve got dozens more copies living here. Hence why we keep changing our clothes.”

“I thought that was just to get some use out of all the clothes you stole while we were supposed to be finding food and water.”

“It was a good plan. They don’t bother us, once they spy on us for a while. Otherwise, they might think we’re twins.”

Jason shuddered at the thought. “Just wrong.”

“Some might say that about clones marrying one another. In fact, many have said that.”

Jason wiped his brow. “I’m going to change and get some water.”

“Only a little.”

“I know.”

Jason made his way to the bathroom, changed into a wholly different set of clothes, and used a measuring cup to scoop a little water out of the half-empty bathtub. He sipped, wrinkling his nose. He would have preferred the bottled stuff, but Jacen insisted they stick to the bathwater before it evaporated. In any case, it was better than trying the tap now, with the water supplies so irradiated.

There was a knock on the door.

The last men on Earth sit alone in a room… thought Jason, finding his gun on the kitchen counter.

“Hon? Are you still in here?” Jacen called in a stage-whisper.

Jason came into the main room, both hands on his pistol. “I’m here,” he said. “Why?”

Jacen looked back at Jason. Then back through the peephole.

“I didn’t think there were any left,” he said.





“Then what, dammit?”

Jacen backed away from the peephole. The door knocked a couple more times. Jason approached, cautious of his husband’s stony expression. He then looked through the peephole, gun firmly in hand.

And he saw Jacen. He saw a mirror.

He saw a third.



Today’s random prompt categories were, “Clones,” “Home repair,” and, “During the apocalypse.”

Clones, of course, had to involve my favourite married pair from “Clone, Clone of My Own.” I like picturing them bickering about proper plank usage on the door while a The Road-esque wasteland goes on outside. I might use these guys again.

– H.


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