The End of the World is a Humorless Affair

Seven days until now.

No turning back. Humanity was in trouble. Everyone agreed. There was only one way to save the human race. A rebirth. The scientists talked of a phoenix. A resurrection. A grand miracle. What they unleashed would be far worse than anything they could have possibly imagined.

Eric had studied the classics. He was a sponge for cold sentences written by dead men. Eric could recite every book ever written down to the finite detail. But Eric’s greatest gift was his recent learning of how to be human from a textbook.

First written in 1929 by a German keen on evolving the species, the book listed from one semiotic symbol to another. Page after page, in graphic detail, the author attempted meaningful communication via everyday signs. He hoped, by the end of the book, man would have learned how to be more humane.

Eric, despite suffering from hyperthymesia syndrome, read the book 191 times. On the 192nd reading, Eric confirmed with an elaborate series of tests, that he had perfected how to be human. Five pages from the end, Eric died suddenly from a brain aneurysm.

Five days until now.

Nothing more awkward than a lonely man sitting on a bench expecting to be fed. Thomas, dubbed the spanking Bishop by the…