"Bookends"

There’s a woman sitting in an empty college lecture hall. It’s eerie and the space feels much bigger. 

Woman: “Time it was” for us all. I wish I could’ve told my students that they were going to survive this. Only 35% of the entire US survived the outbreak. The world had just stabilized before the event. There was world peace, most everyone had stopped fighting and people had started learning the common language that had been ratified by so many governments. “What a time it was.” 

It’s so easy to reminisce since everything now is so bleak. We’re all having to relearn everything. We lived in “a time of innocence. A time of confidence.” It’s so miserable. Very few of us know what to do and no one really needs universities anymore. So I’m trying to figure out where I fit in.

It’s time to rebuild.

I didn’t have anyone to lose, but those who did just have absolutely lost it. It feels so “long ago,” but “it must be” only a couple years since it happened. Most things have been destroyed. “I have a photograph” that isn’t of anything I ever knew, but it’s the closest thing to a prized possession. The only way to “preserve your memories” is to write them out. No one has time for that. So I’ll keep telling stories as “they’re all that’s left” for the people here and those to come after.

The Woman takes one look around the hall, sighs deeply, and leaves the room.

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