By Rose Upson, TIWP Student

Phillip Richardson was an every man. He worked a mundane job at a small accounting firm in Seattle. Everything about him was average; his kids, his wife, his personality, his tastes, his income, everything down to his height – an average 5’8.

In a post-apocalyptic world, he kept things plain. He started his day with buttered toast and a scrambled egg, took a shower that lasted precisely 15 minutes every day, put on the same looking suit, grabbed his briefcase (and his assault rifle) and headed out the door to face the zombies and the scavengers.

He was slightly right-leaning but always told people he didn’t care about politics. Whenever he got to work he sat at his desk, he sipped his coffee, read his newspaper, and chatted with colleagues about the latest water war.

He was precisely 48 with two kids; a boy and a girl, who had average interests, too. 12-year-old Michael had a fascination with trains and a slight lisp. 9-year-old Sally got A’s and B’s and spent her free time reading magazines about the latest bunker fashion. Both had precisely five friends each.

Phillip even put on his clothes the same as everyone else, pulling up his pants one tentacle at a time. That’s the thing about Phillip Richardson. Sure he was an every man, but he wasn’t actually a man.

After the invasion of the alien race in 3026, there were no people anymore. This was a post-apocalyptic world, after all. What’d you expect?