We were the last two humans in the world. Barricaded, down to two bullets, we could hear their mindless bodies trying to break through. We had decided we would die with dignity.
Jane surprised me. “What do you think they’ll do, Peter, when they have no more brains to eat?”
This was something I’d never considered, being more concerned with our fate than with theirs. “I guess they’ll just keep wandering aimlessly, burdened with an inchoate sense that their existence is incomplete. We win.”
Jane nodded satisfied, took the gun and pulled the trigger.
I picked it up. My turn.
Albert N. Katz is a Canadian, retired cognitive scientist, well published in his academic fields of language processing and everyday memory. His recent literary output has produced the following publications: a dozen-and-a-half poems in magazines worldwide, one short story nominated, ironically, for an emerging author prize, and three additional short pieces. Find him at https://www.facebook.com/albert.katz or on Twitter @akatzn.
Maura Yzmore 