Friday 31 January 2014

The last iconoclast

By: Edoardo Cavagliá 

Dust and gravel for miles, and nothing more. The light was iridescent and the dusty breeze suffocating. Whatever we thought we were doing, was terribly wrong. No going back remember? I plodded down the hill trying not to ruin my last pair of usable shoes. Now that the time had come, humanity saw their annihilation. Some days I could see from river banks, broken windows of cottages and the top of hills, desperate animals in search for clean water, but wherever they went, all there was only dust. Cities had become a restricted area: not for anyone in particular, since there was nobody left. Day after day I was drinking boiled, dirty pond water.
If we were trying to create a more suitable environment, we have absolutely failed. The ability of repopulating earth is unthinkable: The youth are either dead or indoctrinated by fat, rich old men who deprive them of their emotions and individuality. Women, as far as I’m concerned have been long gone. Here it’s just me and myself; some animals once in a while.
My hands were shaking as I started reviewing the protocol. There was only one solution, destroying everything. It was either one millisecond of incredible pain, or 50 more years of acid rain.


No comments:

Post a Comment