[ WP ] You believe - but can not be sure - you are the last of humanity .

This note will be found or not, and I do n't know what's worse. 
 
 Before it happened, I had a name. A quite good name that decorated official documents, that felt at home on office desks, that traveled about on business cards. It even made it onto a few plaques and awards, while maintaining its respectability. 
 
 When it happened on that Wednesday night, I still remembered all the names. My wife. My son. My two daughters. How long did I shout for them inside the house and then out. 
 
 When I failed, I tried so many things. Such stupid things that, looking back, I probably learned from countless forgotten movies. I tried the police and fire stations, the town hall, and the downtown shops. 
 
 When I arrived finally at the local Walmart, no frail voice greeted me. The snacks still sat, the televisions still ran beneath the fluorescent lights. Each aisle remained a paradise that no storm had disturbed. And all remained silent. 
 
 But search I did, up and down, left and right, until I saw it in the sporting goods. A shadow. I ran and called for it. But, the shape of darkness slipped away. 
 
 I did n't see another human shade for a long long time. Until today, on the mountainside. 
 
 I can see it now from the bush. It moves so carefree from one small room to the next, sometimes pausing for hours at a time. I watch carefully this shade and its smoke that curls up above the tallest tree and disappears. For now, I wait. 
 

