Seven billion people dead; yet his selfish heart only mourned for one.
The distraught figure dragged his body to the ledge of the mountaintop, as if he alone towed the burdens of a dying planet. He looked down on the futuristic metropolis constructed over the ashes of mankind. The alien city with its pale glass structures resembled a crystal cemetery of broken dreams.
Clutching the last remaining evidence that humans once inhabited the Earth, he groaned.
Through misty eyes, Jake Cross admired a photograph of his wife Lisa. His heart pounded against his ribs like a relentless bill collector at the door. Intolerable emptiness grew inside him like a cancerous black hole, eating away at his brittle psyche, devouring his aching soul.
He pressed the photo against his heaving chest as if her image could wipe away his pain.
Who better to console him? Lisa always neutralized his sorrows with…
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