off

[technosomething]

The printer whirs, clicks, sputters, and jams. A well aimed slap knocks it back into action. A great treasure found unexpectedly in the rubble, its ink a faded red not dissimilar to smears of arterial blood. But the words will be saved. Lights flicker and dim as the generator's steady rhythm stutters to an unknown mechanical hiccup. My gaze flicks to the screen. It gleams steadily with a reassuring air of how things are supposed to be. A finished sheet drops from the printer into my eagerly awaiting hands. In the distance I hear a roar of celebration accented by terrified screaming. They can't be far away now. It is time to quit this place. But first I must destroy the screen, the generator, remove the treasured ink. The printer groans as a fresh page is pulled from its plastic housing. Not many left now...