"Well, we schemed and we schemed, but we've already blown it..."
A soft wind blows over the lake, the frail grass does not bend, but breaks. A great snap comes over the usually silent plain, nothing is left to disturb the peace.
The moon looks down at the rippling mirror, it's reflection distorted in the tiny waves in the otherwise glass-like surface.
The sky is dark, lit only by the moon, for all of the stars are dead and gone. The moon is illuminated, frowning down on the barren, and damaged Earth. This is where I stand. Watching life pass, but, there is no one left to watch. Nothing survives.
Silence fills the heavy air.
" ...We've yet to crash but we still might as well enjoy it."
