1
Jul
The sun set that night, as it had so many nights before. It would set again, years hence, but there would be an interregnum, a time in which the sun did not rule the sky.
That time started innocently, for the sun touched the horizon as if it was any other day, bleeding its light out into the world. Indeed, even after the last ray had been blocked by the horizon, none were the wiser.
Yet shortly afterwards, the weather brought a whisper upon the wind, and those who could hear the voices in the breeze gathered their children and hid. Those who could not walked outside, for the land about them had gone silent.
When those who hid emerged from their hovels, they saw nothing, heard nothing, for there was not the slightest glimmer of stars or moon. The lanterns they gathered did little, illuminating only their own shuddering visages.
Courage was amongst the men, and they walked afield, searching through the village for their friends, yet they found none. The homes of their compatriots had vanished with them, leaving holes where once the supports had stood.
The families gathered themselves together, and spoke over the glow of a single candle. They never spoke again of what was decided there that day, but they hoarded what little food they could, and as the days drew on into months, the population dwindled.
The eldest was taken first, and then the next oldest. The village sustained itself in this way, until there was but one small boy left, alone.
He did not die as he starved, but aged until his back was bent and his limbs more twisted than straight. Through all the years he tracked the passage of the days, and on the day of his hundredth birthday, he heard a voice.
It was the first voice other than his own in ninety two years.
“You have proved worthy of this land.” A figure gleamed through the dark, a sun breaking through the clouds.
“There are none left to populate it. I am the last.”
“A pity, isn’t it?”
Comments
Leave a Reply
Michael Tate on 07.01.2011
That does seem like a bummer. I wonder what they did to piss the land off.
The Four Part Land on 07.01.2011
I just sort of assumed their god was a dick, really.
mazzz in leeds on 07.01.2011
Yes, their god is indeed a bit of a dick!
Loved the first paragraph, very haunting.
The Four Part Land on 07.01.2011
Thanks 🙂
Sometimes it’s fun to play around with evil that doesn’t have a purpose, and just is. There’s no reason, no rhyme.
Tony Noland on 07.01.2011
How sad… to watch the world die around you to no discernible purpose.
Galen Sanford on 07.02.2011
Are you making a comment on civilization? If you aren’t, I’ll extrapolate your statement for you. This is how I feel most days. 😀
The Four Part Land on 07.02.2011
Uplifting bunch of people you lot are. (Yes, I know I wrote the story above :P).
justin on 07.01.2011
Great imagery here. I could almost be there. Bloody glad i’m not.
The Four Part Land on 07.02.2011
Thanks!
Most of the places I write in flash are ones I’d never want to go near. But apocalyptic settings do have a certain appeal, all the same. Otherwise we wouldn’t have so many stories set in them.
Elizabeth Ann West on 07.01.2011
Very provoking. Great job, James. Thanks for sharing. It’s going to give me the creeps all day.:)
The Four Part Land on 07.02.2011
Perfect! 🙂
That’s what stories like this are hoping to do.
Sonia Lal on 07.01.2011
good story! maybe the god will make a woman for him, huh? Or someone.
The Four Part Land on 07.02.2011
Somehow, I don’t quite think so. More likely god will just let the man die. Unless he feels like torturing him a little more.
adamjkeeper on 07.01.2011
This was kind of touching, as if the end of the world wasn’t bad enough yr own god turns their back on you. Painted quote a complex world in few words, nice.
The Four Part Land on 07.02.2011
Thank you. Glad the imagery came across strongly.
Interesting point – I’ve always done end of world scenarios with the sun dying, not the sun growing brighter. Maybe I should try the other way around.
Galen Sanford on 07.02.2011
You had me with the woven mood, the intricate mysteries (how did the children really die?), the dark obscurity looming as I read further. You won me with the last line. I laughed, a bit too loudly for 2am. 😀
The Four Part Land on 07.02.2011
The youngest ate the oldest, until there was no more food left to be had. Then they starved.
And you have an even more twisted sense of humour than me if that last line made you laugh,
Brainhazewp on 07.03.2011
Fantastic imagery – descriptions are great and make you feel like you’re a fly on the wall of this mans world – nice work
The Four Part Land on 07.03.2011
Thanks. Really nice to see the writing actually touch a vein.