[ WP ] Write an epilogue to a story that has n't been written .

Some things of course, stayed the same. 
 
 Old Mr. Mendill still refused to go below the fourth floor. 
 `` I do n't care what you say,'' he would tell anyone who would listen, `` They'll be back. They'll be back and we wo n't be ready.'' 
 
 Most still wore scarves as a sign of solidarity. Respect for those who had fallen. But already, the younger children complained and ran around, necks brazen and bare. 
 
 Already it seemed like a dream. Sarah smiled down at the swaddled child in her arms. She would never have to know the fear of those long snaking tongues. Those mad lolling eyes. Those craning spotted necks. 
 
 It was over. They were free. Humanity could live upon the earth without fear of the giraffe. 
 
 `` Sarah.'' She turned. James stood before the door, smiling fondly. `` It's time to spray dear.'' 
 
 Sarah went to join him, and they stood beneath the aerator. A fine yellow mist descended upon them. In the end, it had been so simple. 
 
 Giraffes licked urine to check for fertility. The solution, of course, was to make everything taste of unfertile urine. But only James had been brave enough to put it to the test. Unable to procreate the giraffes had grown bored and listless, losing even their frenzied appetite. In a few generations they would be no more. 
 
 They walked down the bloodless stairs and out into the yellow grass. Sarah helped James spread a sheet between them. There was still so much to do, so much to rebuild. But for today, the young couple enjoyed a picnic upon the old feeding ground. 

