Time and Judith

For the Pandora's Box of Horrors contest.

The girl stepped across the cracked path,

Around parched trees.

Her soft footfalls upon the soft sand,

That made up the remains of Central Park.

She hummed a tune through an oxygen mask,

Her fingers pattering across an old shopping trolley,

Like it was a Xylophone.

She arrived at her destination.

A metal cube.

No longer did skyscrapers and office building form the New York

Skyline.

They fell when the atmosphere did,

Toppled like dominos.

As was the same in all the cities.

She rapped on the door,

Gently, as if not to disturb the urban wasteland.

"Judith!" The old man exclaimed without an oxygen mask. 

"Time." The girl replied.

The man took out his pocket watch,

Grinned at its tarnished surface

"It's time to go!" the old man whispered, as if someone,

Anyone,

Was listening.

But Judith knew there was no one.

Fifteen years ago,

The CO2

Had brought the world to its knees.

To beg forgiveness from the other green house gases too.

The atmosphere bunt up,

Seas boiled away.

Forests disappeared in cinders and smoke.

The lack of Oxygen turned people's hair white,

But so few where live,

It didn't really matter.

But with Time and his watch,

It didn't have to of happened.

He pulled back the hands and they where in proper Central park.

With proper trees and lakes and benches and grass.

Oh how Judith ad missed grass

And its sweet smell.

Stall holders called out,

Buy this smoothie, buy these ice creams.

She had been six when she had eaten ice cream last.

A woman with black hair jogged past,

No oxygen mask needed.

Wind whistled.

Wind, filled with precious oxygen!

Tall buildings, made entirely of glass,

Jutted out into the skyline, glinting shards of

Diamond.

Another form of Carbon.

A plane rumbled somewhere,

A carbon trail like that of a snails,

drizzled across the sky.

Judith sank to her knees,

Felt the sand beneath her feet once more.

The wasteland greeted her, piles of derelict buildings,

Half collapsed.

Tears dripped down her face.

Collected at her gas mask.

Fell to the ground.

The parched earth drank those few tears,

The last moisture it would ever receive.

Where had the time gone?

Judith let out a howl,

An inhuman screech.

Judith, the last mourner of our

Deceased Planet Earth.

Author's Note

For those of you who don't get it, the old man is a metaphor, Judith is completely alone.

Reviews

[MomzillaNC]

An excellent entry for the Pandora’s Box of Horrors Challenge 2016. I’ve posted it on the Facebook page and I elected to stand as your first draft editor. I’ve messaged you to your WritersCafe email on your final steps. Good luck.

[LastMonth]

Some grammar mistakes, but not too many.

A very strong messege,
We always do wonder what it would be like for the last human.
The last human alive, knowing that after they are gone, (Or not knowing?) that it's all over for the human race.

In your story it is depicted as though it took several agonizing years for this to happen. Almost two decades.

The metaphor is quite clear, and lovely in it's own morbid and depressing way.
Good story.

[Maddi]

Thanks. I know I'm pretty bad at grammar too. My keyboard is also bust and I sometimes struggle to write on it. (:

[Sam Fisher]

very good, and somewhat morbid, but still, very good