by Pietro Manzella
10 September 2050
The day starts as usual, I wake up in search of something to eat.
I’ve survived the night, but in my
struggle the shotgun broke. The bullet is jammed so I’ll have to
throw it away
As I open the door I feel as if I might faint. The stench of the
dead, rotting bodies and the sunlight
make me nauseous. I have spent the last three days in that house
but now that I’ve run out of food
and water I have to move. The zombies on the road can’t walk any
more. For some reason they
can’t survive in the sunlight
There are tons of houses nearby, but it’s safer to move from here
to lose the zombies. Global warming
and the past three nuclear wars have reduced the world to a
radioactive rock, but to counterbalance
the effects of radiation there are dozens of pills I have to take.
The land is infertile, so all the food
that’s left is in toothpaste tubes. It doesn’t taste good but it
does the trick
I’m alone. I lost my family two months ago. They turned in front
of my eyes, and my son tried to
attack me. I didn’t have the courage to shoot him, so I ran around
what’s left of my once beautiful
city; Torino
I find a car which doesn’t look too bad, and turn on the engine
hoping it still has some gas. It emits
a deep bubbly noise which follows a roar and it finally starts
The roads are full of dead bodies which crunch under my car. The
only technological device I have
left is a half broken radio which I always keep on, hoping for
someone to send a message. When I
had my family we were trying desperately to reach the alps because
we heard of a refugee for
humans, but now it seems useless. I’m alone…and might as well die.
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