Unless…

The ticking clock is watched by the three survivors.  They are James Stapleton, a wiry haired man of about thirty, Katherine Marks, a middle aged woman who had never wed, never had children but still dreamed of making a family and Thomas Hart, a young man who had just finished college.

Outside of the train station they are encamped in, the city streets, the very night, cried in silence.  They have moved into the station for protection from the madness that the silence could bring.  They are all city slickers, unaccustomed to such silence.  The clock strikes for the hour of midnight and Thomas pulls his eyes away from it.
“We are the last.” He states.  Katherine begins sobbing.  Thomas does not look at her.  James looks at her, his face unloving.  He wants to comfort her, but doesn’t want to put himself into the role of care giver, so he does nothing.
“Unless there are others, but if there are, then where are they?” says James.
“Exactly.  We can’t spend every day trolling the city for survivors.”  says Thomas.
“Then what else can we do?!” cries Katherine through tear filled eyes.
“We can survive, thrive, build a new society better than the old one.  If we are to be the last survivors then that is our duty!” says Thomas, becoming animated.
“And who will be in this society, you, me and Katherine?”
“Yes.  And we will make more.”
Katherine stops crying and looks at him.
“I am no eve.”
“Katherine, we are talking about the end of the world here.  Humans must continue.  Would you have the whole race crumble because of your prudishness?”
“It is not prudishness you little shit, maybe I don’t want your little worm inside me!”  Katherine begins crying again.

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Limerick Writers' Centre

Supporting Literature, Arts and Culture in Limerick since 2008.

NUIG Writers' Society

NUIG's society for exploring each other's writing in a welcoming environment.

The Lacklustre Emporium

The strange ravings of Joshua Kenehan, writer, illustrator, student, madman.

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