Last Man Standing

• Natally Jaafar, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2021

His terrace bends towards the soil. He stood contorted and observed the turmoil. How quickly it was spoiled. Blinded, they were, to the evident destruction. A universal carnage left them unsatisfied. What had bloomed, has wizened. The sky weeps yet doesn’t drizzle. The preceding viridescent tones are nil, and the Earth is passionless. What once had soared and walked has slumbered with the remaining departed. The breeze simply coughs what it was fed: the fumes of human assault. Cheer up though, they aforementioned; “it’s for the greater good.” For I won right? After all, I am the last man standing.