[ WP ] The first diary entry of a person who has been accidentally forgotten and left on Earth when everyone else has ascended to a higher plane .

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I suppose a part of me enjoys the idea of leaving behind a little piece of myself, a single page that may one day be discovered, swept off and examined. Perhaps language will have changed by then, these words appearing nothing more than incoherent scribbles, to be disregarded and left amongst the dust. I know that this will never happen. In years to come, when I'm long gone, no adventurous young man will try to prove his courage by breaking his way into my derelict home seeking treasure. No beady eyed official from the local planning authority will pace my living room, peering at my deserted shelves and photographs from behind a clipboard, humming softly as he pictures a new car park or office block. I can be sure that none of this will happen because, I'm the only one left. I'm the last person alive on earth and this is the final day of my life. 
 
 Loneliness is a familiar concept to me, I've been alone for seventeen years, ever since Barb died. This is different, though, at least yesterday there was something I was missing out on, an entire planet of friendships and families, people going about their lives with smiles on their faces. Those smiles are what have been keeping me going, they reminded me of happier times, I'd visit the park and sit on the bench that me and Barbara used to call ours, watching the children play and their parents chatting away. I'd run my fingers over the almost faded inscription, `` J+B 96'', it'd make me feel close to her, closer than when I visited her grave. 
 
 I made my final visit today but there were no smiling faces, no children playing. Soon the bench will be gone and so will everything else. The clock says 19:27, that means I have another ten minutes before the meteor hits. 
 
 The box is still sitting on my table, the glow is starting to fade now. I feel slightly queasy when I go near it but they told me that would happen. They told me to press it once and then wait. I was expecting some spectacular light show or at least a sound but when I pushed the button, nothing happened. I assumed it had n't worked until I heard a crash outside, I ran to the window and flung open the curtains to find a car wrapped around the oak tree in my back garden, smoke billowing from the hood but no driver in sight. I opened the door and stepped outside, the silence overwhelmed me. There was no movement other than the leaves on the trees and, in the horizon, a plane falling from the sky. I foolishly tried to convince myself that it was n't happening. I got in my van and drove towards the park, passing no sign of life, not a single man, insect or creature. I got out of the van and ran to the bench, sat down and let the enormity of what had just happened wash over me. 
 
 Clock says 19:26, only four minutes left, need to hurry now. 
 
 I sat there for a few hours, remembering the days I used to spend with Barb, then I set off home to wait it out. They told me to write down my feelings, I did n't see much point until twenty minutes ago, now it seems like the most important thing in the world. They told me that they were proud of me and that I had reassured them that the decision they had made was the right one. I rang them yesterday and they brought the box over about half an hour later. They talked me through everything, explained why one person had to stay behind to push the button. I'd go into the details but I have n't got the time. It seemed silly to me that they had the technology to instantly transport nine million species into another dimension and they put it in a little box with a button on top, `` We try to make the whole process as simple as possible for the Ark-keeper'' they explained. 
 
 Thirty seconds now, this is it. I feel strangely happy, a warmth is growing in my stomach. I suppose this is the `` Joy of Giving'' Barb always used to talk about. It feels good. I'm going to sit outside now. 
 
 Goodbye.
