[ He’s a few decades too old to be resentful of his father’s “thirty minutes a week for play” that he enforced when he was a kid, but sometimes he’s struck by how strange that was to the outside world. Or what he assumes Kamala would say about it. Their meals were regimented like everything else, and he missed them every day in the apocalypse.

It’s not the time to be struck by nostalgia, and yet… ]

It’s a start. [ He agrees. If it’s ever all over, a gyro feels less overwhelming than figuring the rest of it out. The odds of getting that far are slim, but sometimes he wonders. ]

…I did try some things. We snuck out for donuts a few times. Me and my siblings. I didn’t realize how much I built that place up until I went back to it.

[ And subsequently turned it into a murder scene, which was honestly a shame. He shrugs and looks back into the distance. He gets it, he thinks. What emotional attachment to a certain food is like, even if it’s not really about that. ]

Funny what you remember.