[ WP ] You are tasked with conducting the funeral of the human race .

Isaiah stretched his arms above his head and cracked his knuckles. He looked out the window to his left. Snow had fallen early this evening and there was an unfamiliar stillness to the air. He glanced at the clock. 11PM. The funeral was scheduled for 10AM. 
 
 He signed the certificate and placed in the fireproof lockbox. He would try to get some sleep before he said goodbye. 
 
 The phone alarm vibrated him awake at 9:45am. For any other service, he would have been up and showered by 8, in his suit by 9 checking last minute preparations. 
 
 He didn ’ t see the point this time, two weeks ago was when he found out he would be the last person alive. They tracked the object in the sky. There was no disagreement that this was it. This was the end. The carnage and flames would strike first on the far side of the globe on December 5th, and by the 6th at 10AM, it would find his door. 
 
 Isaiah had barely just seen the reports that Pennsylvania would be the last affected when the first reporter called. He didn ’ t quite understand what she was asking. 
 
 “ What arrangement will you choose? ” the reporter asked. 
 
 “ Arrangement? ” he clarified? 
 
 “ This is the Stack Funeral Home? Off of I-80? This is Rebecca Stevens from the Times, and I just wanted to know what flowers you will lay out. ” 
 
 “ The funerals scheduled for this week and next have all been cancelled ” 
 
 “ But what about...? ” her voice trailed off and the silence that remained was one of mutual understanding. 
 
 He knew what he must do. 
 
 Two weeks later the preparations were set. He hadn ’ t needed to choose an arrangement. There was no shortage of memories. Flowers, boxes of gifts, pictures of loved ones all flowed in. And Isaiah carefully placed each one with care. 
 
 Everyone wanted to survive until the end. 
 
 He took one last look around his room and stepped out into the snow. 
 
 “ Goodbye ” he whispered to no one, and the last words echoed in flames. 

