Patrick McCafferty 10.S 26/3/2003
Original Writing: Narrative story
Story title:
“OI!” shouted the policeman, “What do you think you are doing?” The man jumped out from behind the bush in a state of surprise, but showed no expression on his face. He hadn’t heard a human voice in such a long time. The policeman was lying on the country-lane floor with his eyes shut simply shouting random sentences. ‘He’s probably crazy like the rest of them’ thought the man as he walked on back home holding his head in his hands. The man shed a tear of disbelief which descended to the floor of the isolated village.
The Nuclear War to end all Wars really had ended all the Wars as well as all the life on Earth. ‘What were they thinking, those idiots. Thinking that because they’re the rulers of the world they can choose who lives and who dies. I wish I was dead along with the rest of my family. I wish I’d paid more attention to life when it was good instead of taking things for granted.’ The man had been thinking for weeks now about how he could have stopped the War. ‘If only they’d elected me as prime minister, then things would have been different. That way I’d still be able to live and enjoy life with my family and friends.’ The man put down the picture of his wife and went back to eating his soup. There was a fly in it, but he didn’t care. Why should he? It’s not like it mattered any more. ‘I’m going to have to clear away that policeman’s body tomorrow after the poison kicks in’. The man was still wearing his three piece suit that he nearly died in. The thought had crossed his mind many times. ‘Why am I still alive? Why did it kill everyone but me?’ No answer was to come to the man. ‘Well, Another day over then’ he thought. It all seemed a bit tedious to him now. How long was it until he was to die as well? What was going to kill him? He couldn’t die of disease because all the diseases that affected humans had been destroyed by the war. “I’m gonna die of old age DAMMIT!” The man flinched at the sound of his own voice. The last time he spoke was when he told off a dog for eating his postman’s dead body. He was never very fond of dogs. “OLD AGE DAMMIT!” he was quite pleased at how loud he could shout, despite his voice sounding a bit strange. A smile crept upon his face. The man got up out of his chair, pulled over the curtains like his wife always told him to do and took his soup bowl into the kitchen. The man never used to go to bed before Ten O’clock when things were normal. Life wasn’t the same though. There was no reason to stay up into the early hours of the morning. There was no one to talk to. In fact there wasn't much point in waking up in the morning either. There wasn't much point in anything any more. But as people always say “the show must go on”. The man shut his bedroom window and got into bed. He slept with his shoes on just for a change. It wasn’t very comfortable, but you never know until you’ve tried it.
