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Time, Space and Death
Time, Space and Death

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My series (3)


Quiet Haven


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Night's Call

Added:April 27th 2019, 14:48:16
Series:[ Storytime ]
Rating:5/5 (Votes: 2)

A short story about a day in a very well-known post-apocalyptic wasteland.

He walked through the empty fields, searching for something. Food, materials, weapons, anything really. The land was deserted. The cause of this drastic change was unknown for the man, and his eyes could only reach so far, with this barren land extending itself until the horizon and beyond. There was nothing but a gray-looking desert left in his way. The sand engulfed almost every trace of what was once a prosperous human civilization.

"Great... More sand. There has to be something valuable under all this shit."

The man took his shovel and started digging through the ashen veil. Nothing. "Of course", he thought, as he retrieved the tool from the ground. He had run out of water a while ago, but lucky for him there was no sun above his head, following his tired steps. Truth be told, he hasn't seen the sunlight in years. By looking at the dark color of the sky, he supposed it would be night soon. The depressing gray clouds above his head wouldn't let him kwow whether it was day or night, but soon the brutally cold wind slapped him on the face, confirming his assumption.

After walking aimlessly through the deserted landscape, he finally found a half-buried wall sticking out of the sand. He took the chance to take a rest and protect himself from the harsh wind. But he knew he couldn't just stop there forever. So after a little break, he took his shovel and began digging again.

So he would walk a few meters, following the wall, and try digging for something, rinse and repeat. Finally, he got to the end of the wall. His body was too tired from all the digging, but at least he had a good hunting day, his bag was full of metal scraps and other junk. But he knew that wasn't enough. So he kept digging, even when he knew he couldn't lift the shovel by an inch from the ground. He knew it was better to die trying to be effective than suffer the consequences because of an unfruitful hunt.

Then, an unforgiving blow brought the overworked man to the ground, where he collapsed, unable to lift his own weight. Still laying on the sand, he took a time to think about his life and what it had become. And he got to the conclusion that to live like this was not worth the fight, and death would be his only way out. Such thoughts brought peace to the man's mind, as well as a the hope that one day those dreadful days would finally come to an end. So he stopped trying to gather the strength to get up again. He didn't care anymore. This time, he was sure the coarse sand and the cold winds would embrace his body, granting his so-longed sleep.

And so he closed his eyes and, wishing never to wake again, waited for the night's call.

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