It was at 3:33 on a Wednesday night that I was left behind. There was no more sounds. Car were abandoned in the middle of what use to be heavy traffic. Leashes that once had pet and owner attached at either end lay on concrete of suburbs devoid of and life. The sound of children laughter is gone. Mindless chatter that filled the air, gone. The rat, gone. The mailman, gone. Every living being on this earth is gone. Except me. Why was I left here, where I could never see or hear my friends or family again. Never see or hear anyone ever again. Was it divine punishment for not enjoying the pleasure of just living or just bad luck. I was never go at poker. I have no one to lose against now. I'm now the most attractive person in the world. I can do whatever I want. These thoughts don't help. Darker thoughts keep crawling in. I'd rather be dead. I can through myself off the bridge. Nah that's lame I'll go out in a blast maybe hijack a fire truck and crash into the White House . It's not like anyone's home. I'm still to cowardly to take my own life. Will I grow old and die alone sad depressed. Most likely. I pray everyday to find someone, anyone. If I don't find someone the earth will be complete on its lack of life, a floating rock in an unending space. At a time that stopped at 3:33. Leaving its last survivor, me.
>.<Okay this is my first inkling of a short story. I would love to know how anyone feels. Thanks for reading.>.<