gave us a really wide brief this week. The theme was ‘… but what will I write …’
So, here goes:
…but what will I write…
When my last pen is used up there will be no more. In the same way that when I am gone, there will be no more. Human civilization rose, conquered, twinkled briefly in the smug light of its own success, and fell. The empty Earth is dark and quiet now, blank like my paper, a clean slate for whoever or whatever comes next. I hope something comes next.
I pick up my pen, smooth out the creases from the last piece of paper, and think. I smile. “It was a dark and stormy night …”