Prompt: The trees soft leaves danced in autumn's breeze. The wind, a quiet thief of heat as the temperatures dropped for winters crisp arrival. Soon the snow will come for the forest and all of its living inhabitants, including the rare kind of a single man from humankind.
This Weeks Writes
Vienna Hernandez
Immanuel Ibon
Victor Pierz
Emmerson
Vienna
Being the only dude around does seem like it would be kind of maddening but there are some bright sides to it. For instance, since the loss of humankind, nature has flourished beyond belief which makes every season heightening to nature.
Immanuel
Tim Allen’s Santa Clause: An Ode, Owed.
The green tips of pine slowly white
The wrongs of past forgotten right
As joy comes through this holy night
A man in red fell in fright
And new man chosen filled with light
As white hair adorns clean and bright
As his itch to give turns and tingles
Makes man rare and spirit jingle
Single and jolly and ready to Kringle.
Victor
“How is the single man doing?” I said, cutting into the silence of the ranger headquarters, glancing into the rib cage of the little skeleton mounted above Pullman’s desk. I’d just logged in to my computer, but Pullman was typing away, ignoring the tea I’d brought her because she already had coffee in one of our smelly mugs.
“I dunno. Gonna freeze. To death.” Pullman glanced at the taxidermied raptor on the filing cabinet behind me. “Your dumb little naked single man.”
“It has fur, it’s not naked-naked. What do you MEAN? You could have emailed me.” I said. “This. This is my project.”
“You need to be more proactive.”
I hid behind my screen.
Emerson
Humans didn’t exist. Hadn’t for years. At least, that’s what the Crew said. He hadn’t really bothered to follow them after the war. Apparently they had been wiped out, if they hadn’t been they never would have been free.
But sometimes he wondered about that. There was an android, who had a broken mask, a relic of the times past. His hair was white, probably from the old city of Angels. Every model that originated there had white hair. It was stark against his brown skin.
But there was something about the way he held himself. Maybe that’s why they decided to follow him.
It was the start of the night, the air chilled more than usual. After the war, the earth heated and heated, and then froze so quickly that it felt like they blinked and the world had changed.
There was no chance