"The Last Minutes of the Old times" by Samantha I. Hosea

7-11-2000.

The City had a veil of red light hanging above, coming from the fire of battle. Birds were circling over the place where men had once decided to build their homes and, flying, looking down, they tried to understand but couldn’t. They themselves had battle every now and then, but never would one of them endanger their own species, not even the hostile ones.

The glow of the moon made the reddish light seem pale and hope faded in hearts of the few innocent, scared people. Trees shook their leaves in disapproval of human behavior, feeling the breeze caused by several explosions nearby.

If you would be as brave as to step through the arch of the City, there would lie pain, death and ending, flames and destruction would be perceived. Destruction of the human kind, for indeed this was the Last City of the old times.

The one man responsible for all this temporal sorrow, had finished writing his letter to the next generation, and put it with the rest of the remains of the high culture that has been. And, lying down, knowing he too will depart this life, he prayed, to the former God, the God in the culture of the old times, but also to the unknown God of the new time, which was sure to come, for a better life for all those who will start without blemish of former times.

He is sure another chance will be given to set right all the foolishness that has been achieved. People had screwed up, but still deserve to prove themselves, though not in this time. First, all men will have to be distinguished, only then will a new generation rise in a new time and another chance is given.

And as the last living creature of the species of men breathed his last, time stopped.

Thus, a new era began.