I just want to be where the sun shines down. Take away these sleepless nights under the plastic moon. Give me the clouds, the fog, the rain, anything but this, this perfect weather. I remember, as a child, praying for the rain to go away: rain rain go away come again another day.
To be outside, in the rain, my hands held high to the heavens. Letting the moisture seep into my clothing and sticking my hair to my head. Give me the rolling thunder, the brilliance of lightning, the lucid smell of a clean world.
Take away these walls. Release me from this picturesque cage with its Main Street and General Store. With its perfectly green grass, the beautiful azalea gardens, the beach and all its splendor at dusk. But most of all, take away the library, for it is there that I am reminded of what has been. All these things I yearn for can be found there, in books and magazines, pictures and words, stories and poems. All that is left of my ancestors, my people, my race.
I speak of course, of humanity, homo sapiens sapiens. Everything that is left of us is in that room. My best calculations, I am no mathematician, is that the main aisle is over seven hundred twenty eight miles long. That’s an estimate I pulled out of thin air. My door opens at the Z section, and it is two hundred twenty-seven rows long (28 miles) so I multiplied that by twenty-six, for each letter of the alphabet. I imagine there are probably more rows for different letters; Z is rather obscure.
I got bored once, decided I wanted to read something by Houdini, see if I could figure out how to escape. I packed some food and began to walk. I had enough food and water for roughly six days. I did not stop and think that if I walked for six days I would need food for the return six. After three days without food and water all the aisles began to look alike, rows and rows of books, dvds, cds, videos and magazines, twenty-feet tall. I kept second guessing that I was on the main aisle and would head down a side one thinking it was the one, but coming across another and becoming positive that it was the one. Long story short, I never got out of Z.
I guess I eventually passed out because I woke up in my little blue bed in my little blue room in my little blue house on Fifth Avenue. I have no idea exactly how long I was lost in the Library, there was no night there, just endless artificial light.
The next time I walked by the door I found a package of nutritional bars and a pedometer. I made it to Y on six bars, I had twenty, and found I had walked twenty-eight miles. If nothing else, my captors seem to wish the best for me. Of course, I’ve heard the way to hell is paved with good intentions. They probably didn’t mean to obliterate humanity, it was just a by-product of Huiaokctotbuas. I have no idea how to spell it, but that’s what it sounds like, sorta.
It has always seemed to me, that if the Huiaok are so technologically advanced that they could easily have cloned, or replicated more humans, if they so desired. They could’ve at least given me someone to hang out with. This whole enclosure is designed for a hundred or so occupants with thirteen houses, six commercial structures, a movie theatre, a gas station with mini-mart. There are two farms, corn and wheat, they grow like clockwork and someone harvests them every year. It never rains and I’m not watering them, but they grow and develop just the same.
No weeds either, in fact, no lifeforms whatsoever. I dug down in the dirt, it goes about twenty feet before turning into the grey substance that encloses the whole place. Not a single bug, or worm or parasite. No flies, no birds, no cats or dogs. Not even rats or mice.
I am the single living thing in this whole place.