#so rad...

Today I was the only person on Earth. When I woke up, I didn’t hear my father snoring, and I didn’t hear my brother in his room. I went into the kitchen to brew my coffee, and there wasn’t any left over for my mother. I made and ate breakfast at my own pace. 

When I had finished eating, I threw on a jacket and left through the front door, not bothering to lock it behind me. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked, to nowhere in particular. I walked down the center of the street, and no cars came to topple my reign. 

I went to the grocery store to buy a baguette. The automatic doors and lights functioned just fine on their own. I grabbed a baguette and stood there, in the polished space, hearing the buzzing of the lights and my own breathing. I headed to the self-checkout. The scanning of the barcode would have made me feel sad. It didn’t. I tore the wrapping off of my bread, breaking it in halves to shove into my pockets, and left the store. 

Time didn’t pass right. Nothing happened right. I sat down in the parking lot and looked at the clouds. The sun had warmed the blacktop and now the blacktop warmed me. It was the afternoon now. 

Eating one half of my baguette, I continued wandering. I went down to the local movie theatre. The doors were locked. None of the films they had planned to show today would happen. There was a sign that said ‘We miss you!’ in the front window, but I didn’t feel the same. I didn’t think they did, either. 

It was evening, finally. I left the other half of my bread in the parking lot, and started walking home. There was no wind. Nothing made a sound except the gravel under my feet. The sun set all around me, orange and pink making the air smell like dust. My front door didn’t creak. I kicked my shoes off at the door mat. 

I had started the day in bed, and would end it there. I shed my coat, pulling the blankets up to my ears and tucking my knees in to my chest. I didn’t close my eyes. The room was dark, and I waited, nothing happened, and I waited.

My bedroom door opened, the light from the hallway spilling into my room like water onto a half-finished painting. I tucked my knees in tighter to my chest. The hallway light considered me, tilting its head and protracting its claws. I didn’t close my eyes. I breathed. 

Today I was the only person on Earth. I didn’t hear my father snoring.