Darwin's Chosen

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I'd lived in this city my whole life. I knew every side street, every byway, every landmark. Memories would jump out at me whenever I took a walk from point A to point B, no matter where point A might start or point B might end. I loved the sandstone buildings reeking of history, the parks with their ancient trees, the sunlight gleaming on the water of the most beautiful harbour in the world. 

All gone now. The war had extracted a terrible toll. It was a new type of warfare – a combination of nuclear, radiological, biological, and chemical weapons. The infamous weapons of mass destruction. A few of us had survived - but for what? All our past, gone. All our hopes, gone. Our future, gone. For though we had survived, not one of us was able to bear children, to see humanity replenish and go forth once more. Not because of some terrible disease or mysterious genetic malfunction. Nothing so science fiction. It was as simple as could be – we were old. All who survived were over the age of eighty.

No-one knew why and there was no-one left who could find out. I'm sure there is a plausible explanation to do with telomeres or mitochondria or some such marvel. But none of us are scientists, and even if we were, there is nowhere to do research. 

For those of us left here, struggling to get through each day without assistance from more able-bodied souls, surviving is hardly a gift. But survive we have for almost five years now. Although those of us who required a lot of medication have already passed on, those that are left are strong. Darwin's chosen. We have learned to make the best of what we have, to thrive in adversity by training ourselves to find lessons in the best of times and sweetness in the worst of times. After all, stressed spelled backwards is desserts! Or so some wag once said, a long time ago. 

However, I feel my time is almost up. My vision has been growing dimmer lately, and a weariness in my bones whispers to me to lie down, stay down, give up the fight. I do not know how much longer I have on this earth. What I do know is that when my day comes and I see that light shining only for me, I will lift up my eyes knowing that I have truly lived, even for evermore. Yet, there is one last thing I must do. 

I want to see the Northern Lights.