"Oh, nothing really. The only thing I remember clearly was the Huntington Park Bomb that dropped on my tenth birthday."
"Birthday?"
"Yeah. Had a party going full blast when it hit. I remember it as a sort of a thunder-clap and a bright flash in the sky. Then, amid the screams of my playmates, came a wave of heat that prickled my skin while flying glass cut everybody around me. I don't remember anything very clear after that; guess I was in a state of shock or something. After that, I wandered around, living and growing up with Nature. It's been very pleasant ... though I haven't met many people until I saw you, lucky day." She grinned.
"You've been through a lot," she said simply.
"We've all been through a lot. Maybe a lot more. Who knows? There's always a few lunatics and degenerates wandering around after the war ... ever been bothered by them?" Suddenly, she cringed, wrinkling her face with revulsion, then swallowed hard.
"When I was about twelve...." She was nearly ready to cry again. She pressed closer to Clark....
"Never mind," said Clark, "It's over now, don't think about it." Again she was pouring out the sadness of many years of loneliness.
"I love you," said Clark. It was later in the day and they were still in the same position. "I think I love you too," she said leaning back on him. "It's strange," he breathed.
"A few years ago they'd call it puppy love. I'm sure this isn't. It can't be, Dianne. The war has changed things. Before I met you, I used to lay on the grass, staring up at stars thinking. Maybe that civilization was finished, but man wasn't. He's a tough animal to kill off. The future may lie in us, Dianne."
"You're being dramatic, Clark, we're not the only ones left; there are plenty more people. In fact," she said suspiciously, "I am beginning to doubt your intentions. My name is Dianne, not Eve."