The road she traveled was compact dirt with hazardous patches of broken asphalt which stuck up frequently. Michelle loved to ride her bike into town. She would usually go a half hour out of her way to ride down Bell Street, the one street on her side of town that had recently been resurfaced, and the first one Michelle had ever seen made of new concrete. Her parents told her that in time all the streets would be like that. Michelle loved to ride on it because it was smooth, and she could go much faster. Her grandma had told her how all the roads had once been made of cement, but that had been before everyone died. Today though, she took the quick route to town and sacrificed the ride down Bell Street. Today was her grandmother's birthday, and she was determined to be the first one to tell her happy birthday. She could have called, but she wanted to do this in person. Even at her advanced age, Grandma Amy had made sure to come and see Michelle on all nine of her birthdays.

When she got to the house, Michelle raced up the stairs and without knocking raced inside. “Grandma, it's me!” she gleefully exclaimed.

Her grandmother was in her chair, reclined with her feet up listening to music coming from a small stereo. The music originated from one of the two radio stations that were broadcasting. “Michelle, come give Grandma a hug,” the elderly woman said, holding out her arms. In truth, the term 'grandma' was not wholly accurate. Michelle was Amy's great-granddaughter.

The young girl gently approached and said, “Happy Birthday, Grandma.”

“Thank you, sweetie. You're the best for remembering.”

“Was I the first?”

“The first what?”

“The first one to tell you happy birthday,” the girl stated with some sarcasm in her voice.

Laughing, Amy replied, “Yes you were.”

“Good. I wanted mom to help me make you a cake today, but she said we wouldn't find one hundred and forty-five candles,” Michelle said.

“Even if you had, you wouldn't have had enough. I'm one hundred and forty-six now.”

“That's old.”

“It sure is.” the old woman admitted.

“Is it true back when you were young, people didn't live that long?”

“That's true. Typically, people only lived to be about eighty. That's how it was then, and how it'll be for you too. Other than the few of us that are left, there won't be anyone else living this long.”

“So I won't be able to be as old as you are? I only get about eighty years?”

“Eighty isn't bad, I was just over eighty when I had my first baby, your mom.” Together they giggled at the crazy sounding fact.