The last man alive on Earth lay in his bed.
There was a knock on the door.
He frowned, then mouthed a silent curse as the knock was repeated.
He reached out, and switched off his life support.
………………………….
The last man alive on Earth sat in his chair by the window.
He looked out over the empty landscape. At the empty street, the long grass growing in the garden plots of the houses over the road, at the bright sunny day, at the stillness of the scene. Bright, sunny, and still. No-one had walked down the road for days now. The last person had staggered away after hitting his head on the low branches of the tree on the front lawn - another victim of the Paper Nose Syndrome which had struck everyone on Earth only a month ago.
The Syndrome caused thinning of the bones the face and head; leaving victims at risk of death from the slightest impact. People had died in their millions. Putting a helmet on squashed the bones about the brain. Washing your hair put your brains out to dry. Blowing your nose blew your brains out. Even scratching your head in puzzlement was fatal, and when researchers like the man felt they were banging their heads on a brick wall they dared not.
There was a knock on the door.
He didn't react at first. He was the last man alive after all. When the knock was repeated, he at first simply sat up a little straighter and cocked his head, listening for the unexpected sound.
It came again. Knock, knock. Two quick raps. A pause. Then two more knocks.
He frowned, and looked at the door. It was an inner door, leading to the back of the house. But…
Two more knocks clearly sounded from the door. The man stood, and ran to the door. As he did so, the door swung inward. A voice said "Hello? Is anyone in…?" as the man collided with the edge of the opening door, his head taking a nasty blow. "Oooh, sorry," said a voice as the last man alive on Earth crumpled into a heap on the floor.
…………………..
The last man alive on Earth sat at his desk, writing a farewell note to whoever might one day come to see what had happened.
The telephone on his desk rang.
He was startled, and let it ring for a few moments, before reaching out with one shaky hand and picking the phone up. He held it to his ear.
"Hu Hu Hullo?" he said. "John Smith here…"
"Sorry, wrong number." Said the voice of the caller, and the phone clicked dead.
