The days were only grey and the darkness during the day was only slightly less pervading than that of the night. Only between the hours of 07:00 and 16:00 was it possible to view the world with the naked eye.
Inside his home, Arthur could maintain some sense of the world before. In here he had light, not only from the small amount of power still generated by the solar panels lying out on the South facing part of the garden, but from candles and battery powered lamps and torches.
When he had started to live a life of earnest protection he went up into the attic and found all the many boxes of family photographs and brought them all down. He had put them up almost everywhere. It meant that inside the house, when the lights were brightest, it was a giant montage of colour and life. Smiling faces in almost every direction you could look, memories of happier times, when life was life and fear was distant and infrequent.
In these days, fear was the most powerful motivator in almost everyone’s lives.
Only one face had to be carefully cropped and he was sure to do so. So it goes.