There are still some lights on at night. Electricity keeps flowing and some of the street lights remain working after all these years. It is so easy to get confused by them, even now, after so many times of renewing the hopes of somebody else out there, just to find out later that I’m the only one left.
Grey darkness prevailing most of the day, and warm, quiet nights when only the breeze can be heard. Even wildlife is gone, leaving silence as the remainder of all the missing elements that were once part of the whole, and that now has become just a memory in the mind of the only one that still roams around in search of a hope.
A private planet is what it has become; a grave world. The place where only memories live since everything else is gone. A blinding flash of light at noon and then all life is lost, vanished; leaving just the inanimate, material part of the whole. One hand to cover the face from the sudden light, the blindness for a moment, and then the mystery of being the only one left behind to search for another and all the others that are no more.
Is it real? Is it some sort of a punishment for the survivor, or the others that are now gone? Why only the material possessions remain but all life is not? Is it a lesson for the survivor to teach him the value of all the others with whom he could never get along? Or maybe a lesson for the others, who gave so much importance to the material, to the point that they themselves became discarded over what they used to value the most? How should I know!
So now, after so many hopes when searching those lights for another one left behind, and never finding life but just material elements still working on their own, the simple contentment of watching from a distance and dreaming that they must be there, continuing their party of so long.
Maybe the flash of light will come back some day, bringing back all of those that are now gone. Maybe they will reappear like by magic by means that I don’t know. Maybe this whole situation of years now is just a nightmare that by tomorrow morning will be no more. Or maybe tomorrow morning it’ll be yet another silent day in this strange grave world.