Poem: Reconstruction

A hollow outline where you used to be
Stands guard in the present
As a window to the past
Of what you may have looked like
When your gray walls still bore chisel marks

Short Story: Last Person on Earth

Looking around at the rubble of civilization, I felt her eyes land on me.

“This can’t be the end,” she said.

“It’s not,” I answered gesturing towards myself. “We still have each other.”