Lost Recordings And A Lost Species | Short story

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Lost Recordings And A Lost Species

By Zohaib Shahid B.

Wet pavement glimmered as the evening sun shined above. The puddle was no more after a man had walked through it. He was walking foolishly. His arms were loose and dangled along with him. Only if he had known of what came next. Only if he had not fell for whisky, maybe then he could still have had some sense still awake. But no, he was drunk. He fell through a staircase that led below the ground. He made him self up and stumbled through to a transportation system. This was the train station. The man had fallen onto the tracks, still unaware. As people around him brought about in their hands devices to capture lights. There were only seconds before he was gone. Those seconds had passed. But the light reflected from the horrible scene was captured. But had it meant to have that data if the value of life was at it’s coast.

Had another man talked of logic. He had uttered that which would make sense. He spoke of the wrongs in them. They became offended. He spoke of their solutions. What was the outcome of him? What was the outcome in trying to find solutions for them? They had thought he was crazy. But he was normal by nature. He was not normal by their standards. Their standards were not normal. Their ways conflicted nature. They had made it unlawful to speak of these problems. The man was put into lock by security and tortured on site. Had they not saved him? No. But they had recorded the event. But what had it meant for them to record it when injustice was taken place and they were responsible for allowing it to happen?

Recorded were the events of their lives. These people did not know the basics of survival. They lived knowing only comfort and pleasure. They were a species devolved. They had lost the knowledge of longterm effects. They had lost the thought of what may come next. They did not know what would come next. They recorded the death of loved ones. All that light captured. But had it all meant to capture terrible events? People used to be different in many ways. Now the only difference is their fingerprint. People don’t talk differently. They don’t act differently. Nor they react differently. They don’t even seem to think differently.

They were a product. They were overpowered. You would be left in surprise if I were to tell you that once these people controlled their government rather the government control them. What had changed? That would make a long story. At was an unusual turn. This day was an unusual day. They sky was red. The clouds were darker then ever before. Most likely because they had destroyed their own environment with their self interests and self pleasures and what comforted them. Were they not aware they’re will come a time when there comfort will come to an end when resource ends?

It was evening time. There is an expected meteor. But what that meteor will bring will be unexpected. Bright glares traveled across the sky. The light was almost blinding. They all pulled out their devices to capture the light of the moment. To record the moment. For what, you may ask? That is for lord to know. That question still has me thinking. There had been a mistake in the calculations. Electronics had failed them this time. Seems the electronics weren’t made so perfect after all. They hadn’t any scientist to correct the mistake. No one wanted to think. That was a job that required thinking. Now it did not matter. It was too late.

They were recording the event as it took place. And it was obvious to anyone with logic and reasoning that the meteor was dangerously close. And it continued to get close. But these people were oblivious. The meteor struck and a blinding light flashed throughout the atmosphere. The large cities that stood tall and massive were now wastelands. It looked like a dead planet yet to have life. There was nothing left. The ground was flat and blank for as far as one could see.

It turned night now. And rain was brought down. It turned mourning now and one could see a tiny spark of green in the vast grey. As time and years passed This was now a tree in the middle of a small field by grass. There was still plenty of grey. But that spark of green was now much bigger. What had their recordings meant? Where are they now? They had been lost within the air. They are no longer tangible nor visible. So what mattered of that race? If only had they paid attention.

If only had they kept thought alive. If only they did something about their problems other then record the events that took place. But had they thought that far? Now it is to question will intelligent life start again in this world? Will there be any life other then this small foliage on a small piece of lands. Are we not paying attention here in our own world? Should we start paying attention to problems and look away from pleasure and relaxation for a while? Or will we stay num and uneducated when it comes to fixing what we must in order for us to go on?

Short Story

By Zohaib Shahid B.

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