Bread. Stale bread. No butter for salvation. No jam nor jelly. Can’t even scrape up a cup of coffee. Saul looks around the room. A mouse scurries across a carpeted floor.

Water, John says. We’re stuck with water. It’s not even pure. There’s a rust color to it. Diseased water. He sticks his head under the faucet and opens his mouth, filled with decaying teeth. The water is slurped. A loud sound as he sucks it upside down. He cups his hands and splashes his face.

Do you remember when we had everything at our fingertips? Saul asks. Plenty of whatever we desired. Birds gather in the backyard. A rooster crows. Saul takes the loaf of bread from the table. Someone will get use of this. He says. Saul begins to walk out the backdoor and is stopped by John.

Where are you going? John asks.

Get out of my way, Saul tells him. John lodges his body between the door and Saul. Arms spread. Legs wide. I’m not going to tell you again. Now move, Saul demands. Flies are stuck to a strip hanging from the ceiling. There are holes in the walls exposing insulation.

John grabs at the bread. Let go, he yells. The rooster crows. I said, let go.

Saul carries the loaf of wheat like a football and attempts to run over John. John tackles him, and both men wrestle to the floor. Hair is pulled. Both men bite each other. They kick and punch. Saul throws the bread across the floor and holds onto John’s neck; choking him. The mouse dashes behind the refrigerator. Both men lie there, side by side. John is blue in the face. Saul is scratched up. His body bleeds.

On his hands and knees, John goes over to the loaf of bread and tears off a piece. He catches his breath. You ain’t taking this bread nowhere, he says. This is now all mine. None for you. And none for those stupid birds.

The rooster crows again. Birds chirp. The sun is coming out past clouds. Both men stare at each other. John  bites into the bread. He can barely chew it. His gums bleed. He throws it at Saul.

Do what you want with it, John tells his friend. Throw it out to the birds for God’s sake. I don’t care anymore. Just get rid of it.

Saul nods. He grabs the stale food and walks to the door. He tears off pieces and throws them out into the yard.

The rooster crows.