Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Nothing Nothing

Nothing.

The aliens stood over the ruins of a world ravaged and destroyed. All at once terrified and excited to stand where no one had stood for hundreds -possibly thousands of years. The aliens, small grey creatures with large heads, communicated not through speech but through telepathy. Broken up into teams, they searched for any clues to the civilization now gone. A buzzing suddenly filled the minds of all the parties alerting them to a discovery.

All parties converged at the foot of a stone deliberately set into place among the rubble. The last actions of the last person alive. Carved upon it: symbols, words, images the aliens are unable to decipher. A prophecy unbeknownst to them, written by the dying hand of a man who has watched everything he loved be destroyed. My last words before the end. These words. These words, and then, nothing.

3 comments:

  1. You either need to write a novel or a book that's a collection of short stories. Great stuff.

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