The woman kept wiping at some unseen spot on her knee.  Nothing's perfect, she wiped at the spot again.  

  "What if our groups like merged?" 

  "Are you just trying to get us to babysit?"

  "Is it therapy?"

  "Sort of.  For some of us." 

  "You gonna sell our ideas out from under us?"

  "I haven't even had paper since the storm." 

  Someone pulled extra notebooks and pens from a knapsack.

  "I been drunk since then."

  "We lost everything."

  "Well, maybe I was sober for a day in there."

  Giggles.

  "That's no better."

  "Maybe it'll never be normal again." 

  "Seems to have triggered everyone's armee-what's-that-word?" 

  "ARMAGGEDON"

  "SEEMS LIKE IT"

  "Hand me that bin of paints."

  "You really think getting creative will help?"

  "Something's got to.  It's like we're stuck."

  "Can't hurt."

  "That's beautiful!"

  "Yeah I guess, but we're ugly."

  "Pretty much so."

  "Pass me that pack of nails.  I gotta get ready for work." 

  "It's like I can't get back."

  "A dream?"

  "No, like I can't get back into my life."

  "You didn't have a life." 

  "Well, I'm here."