Part XIII: Not the Only One Left

We sit down on a clean, plush sofa. It’s heaven.

‘Will you let me stay?’

‘Only if you won’t convert me.’

He’s joking, but I have to make it clear I’m not a believer.

‘They think I’m the saviour. Because I survived. I think I lived because I wore boots with thick rubber soles.’

‘I remember those. You wouldn’t wear anything else, despite the heat.’

I have them in my bag. I carry them around because they remind me who I am.

‘Teach me and you won’t be the only one left. I never believed, but I want to know.’