As I am writing these notes, I realize that it is very possible that there will be no one left to read them. Or perhaps our species will be lucky, and after a few hundred (thousand?) years, the writen language of the past will be deciphered. Perhaps there will be enough record of our civilization left to jump-start the rudaments of some small measure of society. Perhaps, humankind will once again be able to seek some pursuit other than brute survival. But, it is far more likely that the few people that must have found themselves in my fortunate(?) sutuation will find it impossible to carry on. I know that for me the job is finished. I am very sick and very dizzy. The left side of my body is completely numb, and the last batteries are in the flashlight which I now use only once or twice a day . What seemed at one time like an endless supply of canned foods is running low. In the dark here I have had ample time to think about what I will leave -- about what I can possibly do to help any being that finds this shelter. I . . .