Dandon

All government in Canada has suddenly collapsed, and there is a lot of speculation and tension as to what will happen to society in the country. I know of a group who have chosen to live nomadically for the sake of being able to flee and hide easily if necessary. They have set up tents in a park by the river, and I plan to join them. In preparation, I begin filling a backpack with all of the things I think will take up the least space while being the most useful.

In the meantime, a friend and I order a pizza to be delivered to my house. When the delivery guy shows up he tells me it will be $100, which I think seems fair since the governmental situation must impact the monetary system. I count out the remainder of my cash, $120, which I doubt I will need as part of my impending new lifestyle. I’m about to give him the extra $20 as a tip, but then he asks if he can have a slice of the pizza, so I consider letting him do that instead. Then my friend and I get into an argument about what proper tipping etiquette might be in the new order of things.

I head to the park, which is swarming with people. There seems to be some sort of festival going on, complete with a parade. I keep running into old friends of mine, all of whom I have not seen in a long time and who have struggled with serious drug problems. They now seem happy and healthy, just like everyone else in the area. It occurs to me that perhaps society might go on functioning communally of its own accord.