Inspiration?

[Eliza Hodgkins 1812]

"Well, here we are."

"Yes. Alone at last."

"Strange, isn't it? To be the only ones left?"

"Truly strange. Surreal almost."

"More like a Samuel Beckett play, I'd say."

"Wasn't he a surrealist?"

"Uh, I don't think so. Maybe. No. I have no idea. Could you pass the bacon bits?"

"What for?"

"I like to sprinkle them on my cantaloupe slices."

"Really? I like to eat my cantaloupe with a tall glass of chocolate milk."

"To each his own..."

"Said the old lady as she kissed the pig."

"I love it when you finish my sentences."

"And I love finishing them. It's a good thing we go so well together, being left here all alone like this. I thought an empty planet would be a lot more quiet."

"Me, too. Instead it sounds a bit like....I don't know...it's a constant buzzing."

"Not a buzzing. A sizzling. Like grease in a pan. That reminds me, you should turn over. You're stomach is getting burnt."

"Thanks. Would you mind putting some sunblock on my back?"

"Not at all my friend, not at all."

"I am really glad that it's you. If we had to be the last, I mean."

"Yeah. It's funny, really. You know I didn't really like you when we first met?"

And they shared a laugh then before lapsing into silence. The listened to the dying world around them, grease in a pan. The water rolled in from the west and the air smelled fresh like a beginning, ironic since it was so obviously the end. Earlier they had taken the notice of the ocean, blaoted with death. The leviathans of the deep had all floated to the surface and looked like tiny islands in the distance. The sun was at its zenith and as time had finally stopped, so it would remain.

"I heard the trumpets this morning, Will. I expected them to sound ominous but I could have sworn it was a Lee Morgan song being played; it was lovely.

"I felt an earthquake at dawn," smiled Testament, "and thought the whole world was a waltz. It was lovely, too."