SSM: The Last Human
Here’s this weeks post:
The Last Human: In a post-apocalyptic world, you might be the last human alive. How do you survive, and what do you discover about the world?
Lucille’s eyes flickered open to the soft, golden rays of morning light filtering through her curtains. Stretching languidly, she rolled out of bed, her feet finding the cool, familiar comfort of her slippers. The day began like any other in her small, cozy apartment: brewing coffee, a quick shower, and choosing an outfit from her neatly arranged wardrobe. Outside, the world awaited her, unchanged in her eyes. Little did she know, as she hummed a tune and prepared for the day, that she was waking up to a world vastly different from the one she fell asleep to.
As Lucille stepped outside, the first thing that struck her was the silence. The usual cacophony of city life – honking cars, chattering pedestrians, the distant siren of an ambulance – was conspicuously absent. The streets, normally bustling with the early morning rush, lay deserted. Confused, she wandered aimlessly, her footsteps echoing off the buildings.
She made her way to her favorite café, a quaint little spot she visited every morning. But today, the warm, inviting glow of its lights was missing. The chairs were upturned on the tables, and the door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open, the bell tinkling in a hollow, lonely manner. Inside, there was nothing but silence. No barista with a ready smile, no regulars buried in their newspapers. Just an eerie emptiness that sent a chill down her spine.
Lucille’s heart pounded in her chest as she stepped out of the café, her mind racing with questions. The city, once a vibrant tapestry of life and color, now felt like an abandoned stage set. She walked through the streets, her eyes searching for any sign of life, any hint of what might have happened. The shops were locked, cars abandoned mid-journey, and playgrounds stood silent, their swings swaying gently in the breeze.
As she traversed the city, Lucille stumbled upon a newspaper, its pages fluttering in the wind. The headline screamed of a sudden, unexplained exodus, but gave no answers. The more she discovered, the more the mystery deepened. Empty houses with meals left uneaten, phones ringing in the distance, unanswered. It was as if the world had paused, and she was the only one who didn’t get the memo.
Days turned into weeks, and Lucille’s solitary existence began to fray the edges of her sanity. She found herself conversing with mannequins in store windows, giving them names and stories. Her laughter, once rare and precious, now echoed through the empty streets, a soundtrack to her unraveling mind. She danced alone in the park, twirling under the moonlight, her shadow her only partner.
In the midst of boundless freedom, Lucille felt an overwhelming emptiness. The world was her playground, yet each day weighed heavier than the last. Without another soul to share it with, her freedom felt like a cruel joke.
One evening, as Lucille aimlessly wandered through the city’s outskirts, she stumbled upon a peculiar, unassuming building. Pushed by a mix of curiosity and desperation, she entered. Inside, she found a room filled with monitors, each screen showing different parts of the city. And there, to her astonishment, were people – walking, talking, living.
Lucille realized in a dizzying revelation that she hadn’t been alone; she had been in some sort of simulation, an experiment or a game she couldn’t comprehend. The real world continued outside her bubble of isolation. She wasn’t the last human, just the loneliest.
Alternate Ending
Months passed, and Lucille’s isolation had become her new reality. One morning, while wandering through a desolate library, she found a diary half-buried under scattered books. The diary, dated years before, spoke of a world teetering on the brink, ravaged by a mysterious calamity that threatened humanity’s existence. The last entry was haunting: a decision to send one person into a deep, experimental slumber, a last hope to awaken in a restored world.
Chills ran down Lucille’s spine as she pieced together the truth. She was that person, awakened not to salvation, but to a world that had moved on without her.
