Searching for Keys on the Rusted Belt

Searching for Keys on the Rusted Belt

I was at my local grocery store with my old roommate Mark, trying to buy canned beans and water, but the power had been out for years and the automatic sliding doors were permanently jammed halfway open. The shelves were mostly picked clean except for layer upon layer of grey dust, and the skylights showed an orange, hazy sky that smelled like ash. I kept looking at my phone because I was worried about being late for my morning shift, but the screen was just dead black and my watch had completely stopped. Mark casually picked up an empty cardboard box and said we needed to leave before the afternoon air turned bad, but I couldn't find my car keys in my jacket pocket. I dumped everything out on the rusted belt of register four, panic rising, only finding dead batteries and bottle caps while other quiet shoppers shuffled past us with their shopping carts.