Words Of The Prophet

"What do you think it means?" Shane asked, sitting with his back against the far wall, flashlight pointing at the message emblazoned across from him.

"I think it's pretty explicit." answered Carl, standing not far away.

"Well, yeah, I guess. But there are subtleties."

"I'm not so sure."

Shane continued to stare at the message. Carl opened a ration bar and started munching on it, letting his attention wander. The cold tiles of the floor glistened by the light of Shane's flashlight. The crumbling supports around them were overgrown with moss.

"Maybe not. Maybe that was the point. No subtleties, nothing to misinterpret."

"Hm. I don't know that that much thought was put into it." Carl responded, mouth full.

The two were quiet for a while, looking thoughtfully at the words of their prophet on the wall across from them.

Carl finished his bar, and carefully returned the wrapper to his pack. A few minutes more passed, and he cleared his throat.

"It'll be dark soon Shane."

"Oh, right. I guess so. Sorry Carl." Shane shook his head, and stood up, smiling sheepishly. "I was just, lost in thought."

"Forget about it. Let's just get back before nightfall."

"Agreed." He smiled, and hefted his pack onto his back. The two of them worked their way out through a hole in the ceiling dripping with vines, leaving the words of the prophet in the cave.

Behind them a message hastily scrawled in spraypaint disappeared into the dimness.

"Try to be nice" It said on the subway wall.