The boy squeezes an orange torch with his hands. It whirrs, like a tiny, quiet chainsaw. “What’s this for, Daddy?” he asks.
“It’s for when the power goes out,” Daddy says.
“And it doesn’t need batteries?”
“Why did you buy a toolkit? You’re not a builder.”
I might build something.
“Like a treehouse?”
“You’ve got lots of tinned food. I don’t want that stuff. Are you going to eat it?”
Some of it.
“Can I hammer too? I’m a really good builder.”
“I can’t see outside anymore, Daddy. Why are we blocking the windows?”