In a time of complete turmoil, when the Earth is in distress, the thought of living became menacing.
Many died. Whether it be in poverty, in riots or by the hands of their fellow man, there was never a time to mourn.
Those people left behind — the “lucky” few — roamed the land, looking for a way to survive. Living off scraps, alone in their sadness. To be left alive was considered luck but to live was not lucky.
They had seen their families die before their very eyes. Watched the devolution of humankind and eventually the death of humanity. There was no solace. Surviving for the sake of simply not dying, with no hope was cruel. But some could not justify the alternative — choosing to die on their own terms when the darkness became too much.
The battle of the land had long finished but the war never ended. In this desolate place, life is often forgotten and death is far kinder.
However, human nature dictates that a fighting instinct remains until the very end. Even in a lifeless expanse of sand as far as the eye can see with the blistering heat beating down, there was finally a sign of life. The sound of laughter from a young woman as she ran across the land with a slightly older man trailing behind. Two mismatched people seeking survival.