The Last One Standing

The thought of perhaps being the last one alive didn’t seem something so self-important anymore. To be honest, it had never been so. The people around him had vanished; civilizations had faded off; the hunters had become the hunted; but his desires were stuck with him. Every time he felt he had shrugged them off, something or the other would come by his path to ignite his extinct passions.

Neglect is worse than having foes. But loneliness is a far worse thought than any other. And that was his friend, foe, et all! He knew he wouldn’t survive long like this. Perhaps this was the only thing his heart and mind were in sync with! Life seemed silly before his longing for companionship.

But there was always this urge to sign-off thoughts such as death or self destruction. There was always that invisible line which he couldn’t cross. His body longed to survive the odds, let it be only existence! He couldn’t come to kill himself for some reason. Perhaps the so called god wanted to toy with the last of the race!

He was no more the great hunter and forager that he was; neither was he civil nor the party animal that folklores used to speak of. Whatever he was he was ALWAYS one step behind in understanding the plans of creation. He was still very much human!

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