The Last Man

    He sat in his chair, staring out at the stars beyond his bubble.  His eyes saw naked beauty, a masterpiece of creation beyond expression.  His heart was cold, though.  The warmth of splendor failed him, just like they failed him.  Everything failed him.

    He stood and walked to the edge of his bubble.  The floor beneath his bare feet was cold.  Flattening his palm against the surface of his bubble, he waited.  Beyond his bubble was nothing, a vacuum they referred to as space.  He called it heaven, the place he found peace from the chaos called humanity.

    There is no more chaos, his thoughts said.

    "No more chaos," he repeated aloud.

    It's gone.  All of it.

    "All of them."

    Grief seized his heart.  They were gone, swept away by the end of a star like a bug swatted by God.  He left without warning them.  Now he was alone.

    He returned to his chair and continued to stare out at the stars.  He told himself to be patient, that the feeling would come back.  The words were old and worn, but soon his hope grew beyond his doubt and he continued to stare.

The End

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