[ WP ] Write the same story twice . One as a drama and the other as a comedy .

Drama: 
 
 It's strange knowing you're the last one. You see the remnants, feel the ghosts gliding through your bones. Broken windows of the mom-and-pops on Main, gazebo by the lake where once upon I time I got down on one knee, the old drive-in, its tattered screen billowing in the dusty wind. This was once our town. 
 
 Legs weak, I nevertheless continue up Overlook Hill. Good a place as any, I suppose. I avert my eyes from the bodies. And they all called me crazy to build the shelter. Why you gon na spend your life savings on cement? But now look at'em, gone, gone, gone. 
 
 I reach the top of the hill. Sunset, sky blazing indigo and red from the fires in the valley. Load up the shotgun with a single shell. All it'll take. No sounds, not even the birds. Just the cool metal against the roof of mouth. Air too dry to shed a tear. I take a deep breath. 
 
 `` Wait!'' A voice shouts from behind me. I lower the gun. The tears flow easy now. 
 
 Comedy: 
 
 No more 9-5. No more tax forms. No more Aunt Marge's nasty blueberry crumb pies. 
 
 No more mortgage! No more nagging about leaving one damn sock on the bedroom floor! 
 
 You do see the remnants. Broken windows of the mom-and-pops run by people who could n't read the labels of the food they sold, gazebo by the lake where Elizabeth rejected my great-grandmother's ring, the old drive-in that used to run those sentimental crap films. 
 
 And they all called me crazy. Why you gon na spend all your money on cement and beans, Jack? HA! Warned'em not to trust that Putin fella. Now who's the one skipping down Main butt-naked wearing the Mayor's cowboy hat, Aunt Marjorie? 
 
 Another great day, Jackie boy. I head up for a sunset dinner at Overlook before another glorious night of undisturbed sleep. The sky is burning indigo and red from the fires in the valley. So beautiful I could cry if the air was n't so dry. 
 
 I enjoy my meal and get down to the last delicious potato with cheddar cheese. 
 `` Wait!'' A voice shouts from behind me. I lower the potato. The tears flow easy now.
