Fantasia
This is a world that has come to an end; an empty and still world where nobody exists but I. There is a building here; nobody knows how long ago it was built. There is a small table and chair in the room; outside the window, there is a dry prairie and mountains on the horizon. I live here all alone, passing both time and solitude. Sometimes, I venture outside and pick up little odds and ends that I might need. Of course, it is abandoned out here, too. But under the fading sun, seas of tiny lights are floating about. Amidst those tiny lights, I pick up wood scraps, nails, and other pieces of junk I wander upon. My purpose of gathering these pieces of junk is to create a friend. But now, even as I construct him, I wonder if he'd be happy living in a place like this. At every turn, those feelings of guilt still haunt me…