The Last Man(Sidney Card) The Last Man

"Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god."
Aristotle


Have you ever seen the Wasteland? Lifelessness hangs in the air there, nothing grows, the ground is cracked and broken like the skin of a mountain, the emptiness of it is penetrating. In the middle of the Wasteland there is a building that considering all technical practicality's should not and cannot exist; the building has one door and two floors the upper floor is surrounded by a balcony, the edge of the balcony lined by a wrought iron railing.

Mask sits on this balcony and lights a cigarette, the match casting an orange glow over his face. Mask is a man that seems perpetually tired. His sunken pale blue eyes are glazed giving them the appearance of having nothing behind them; his skin is practically transparent and clings desperately to his jaw and cheek bones. Mask is dying of boredom. Behind Mask a heavy wooden door opens slowly, a second man enters wearing a blue suit and a black tie, his jet-black hair combed neatly to one side; this mans name is Puto. "Why must you always disappear during the days I need you the most?" Mask pondered over the words, his voice cracking, Puto's reply was instant, his voice was strong and persuasive, "I had business to attend to that could not be neglected, besides it won't matter for long, it's nearly time." Mask quietly questions "Will Altus be joining us?", "He wouldn't miss it for the world". As they speak a third man opens the door. He is taller than the other two, dressed entirely in black, his clothes fitted to his body perfectly and a shadow is cast over his face. His air is one of confidence and focus, he speaks with authority, "Gentleman, shall we."

The three men stand, the railing that surrounds the balcony opens up in front of them, the wrought iron twisting and peeling away like an old wallpaper. They walk towards the opening. Altus leads with Puto to his right and Mask to his left. They walk down from the balcony on invisible steps. As they walk the Wasteland around them begins to dissipate like a fading mirage and a new world slowly forms around them. Mask seems apprehensive, his steps are measured and careful. The world they have stepped into is full and vibrant, they walk down a tarmacked road lit with thousands of different colours from glowing billboards, illuminated lettering and shop windows displaying anything you could possibly want, the advertising assaulting your eyes as you pass. Puto speaks, "This world is broken and wrong, governed by the clock it screams out to be better than what it inevitably is." He turns to look at Altus, "This is not our place". As he speaks Mask is faltering, his condition has deteriorated, he seems to be fading against the bright lights. He is becoming less real than the world he inhabits. He falls to his knees and tries to cry out for help but his voice has been taken.

Puto notices Mask's absence. He turns to look for the man but is greeted by sudden piercing darkness. He takes a step back and the darkness follows, in fact from left to right for as far as he can see a black curtain has descended following the two's journey. Behind Puto there is nothing. Altus, without turning or slowing his pace, speaks, "What's past is past, what's done is done. All we can do is go on." Puto follows without question, his face displays no remorse, his eyes set straight ahead.

The Two men arrive at the door. It lies horizontal in the road, it's red paint cracked like the tarmac. It opens of it's own accord and without so much as exchanging a glance they step into the second world.

This world is blank, not empty but blank, they are encompassed with white. As they walk Puto begins to describe this white world speaking to no one in particular, "This world is beautiful, it seems as if it were made for me, here we are not limited by what we can do but by what we can think, no longer will we be restrained by the laws because we have surpassed them, now we are the designers and the creators, it is for us to weave the fabric of the universe...." His speech becomes progressively faster and louder, and the white world they are in joins him in his outburst, "...this world defies humanity and its principles, it drips with superiority." Two distinct voices now directly over each other both rising to a crescendo, "Altus! we could survive here forev..." Altus cuts him short, "We are Here". The glow of the white world had no effect on the shadow cast over Altus' face. He turns to Puto and looks into his eyes for the first time and now he tells Puto the truth, "Without me you cannot exist and you never would have; you are simply a part of me and now I must go on and you must remain." The words themselves pushed Puto back into the white world which gratefully enveloped him, leaving him with nothing more than his ideas, stripping him of his humanity and trapping him in his own fantasy.

One man, truly alone now, Altus turned to the next door; a giant eye staring into the sky, looking past everything, outside of time, outside of reality, in colouration it was a blur of blue and green like paint dripped carefully into water. He wastes no time climbing to the top of the eye. He passes through the pupil and in transit for only a second arrives in the mind of the world.

Altus, The Last Man, will step onto a desert, a dying red sun will hang low in the sky, its light will slowly dim. Altus will stand in the middle with no way back and nothing in front. Altus will think the last thought and feel the last feeling. He will feel peaceful. Then he will die and with him the whole of humanity.

His death will fall through the crumbling world leaving it void of life and the universe will be alone; without observation.

Sidney Card.

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