No Life in a Wasteland

Dystopia story for Saturday’s Write Tribe.

Five years since the outbreak, the government collapse, and five years since almost everyone I knew disappeared. Hell, I may even have killed them myself.

Rick stepped cautiously, trying to see. The wind whipped in his face, its claws piercing the surface. Rick’s feet trounced the earth beneath them, and he took in all the pollution. Lays chip bags lay crumbled, the sky was darker then coal, and before him an enormous figure prostrated on the ground.

Vines clung to her body; her hair tangled scraggly weeds.

She was Mother Nature and she was having the last laugh at civilization.



Leaves crinkle.

Frogs croak.

People die.

But what if-

We didn’t?

What if-we lived for one thousand years,

longer than the trees!

I scoured the earth

for what I wanted. Until I searched

for what seemed eternity. And I

thought-Is this really a good

idea? Outliving my generation to be

all alone? But I continued on.

I knelt down to touch the

Earth. And prayed to the God of

Gods. Until I prayed for what seemed

an eternity. And I thought-

Is this really a good idea? Cheating

Death forever? But I continued on.

I climbed a cliff and opened my

mouth as big as Neptune. Until

I held it there for what seemed

eternity. And I thought-is

this really a good idea? But I continued on.

I walked on and on.

For what seemed eternity.

But then-I saw the curved sharpness,

The empty face, and the crooked cowl of

Death itself.