The world that came after the end of mine was a hot one. The sun beat down on my neck and head like a golden fist of fire. Even with my dark skin, I could feel thousands of burning pinpricks of hate hitting me from all directions. I took a moment to put my hair into a ponytail, hoping that would help my head cool faster, but it didn’t. It only exposed more skin for the sun to burn. I would have taken my hair down then, but my arms were too tired to rise to the occasion. My oversuit kept the rest of my body at an even temperature, but every now and then, I felt a river of cold sweat run down my leg as the suit expelled all the fluids it had collected in those last moments.
An hour into my trek through a rocky crimson desert, I realized I hadn’t brought any food or water… and I was dehydrating faster than anticipated. My suit’s wrist readout told me it was over 51 degrees. There was no GPS signal, but then I hadn’t really expected to find one… only hoped. When it comes to the end of the world, all one really has is hope.
The last thought I had before collapsing was, I hope I don’t die.
ns3.143.24.174da2
