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Did the world always seem this… grey? Wasn’t there a time where everything was filled with brighter colors? Yes, there was something… music, that’s what it was. It always sounded so pretty. I think it came from a box of sorts. I know that sounds a bit silly, music coming from a box. But yes, I’m certain that’s what it was. There were also other things as well… We called them… laughter... bliss… hope… rapture… sorrow… pain… deceit… lies… Yes, those were the colors that had filled the world. Now it was as if all of those colors had been absorbed. It’s as if the artist’s brush had retracted everything and… well, that was just it; and what? Wherever those colors were now, they most certainly were not here. Everything seemed blank; lifeless and barren. The universe itself was now a blank sheet of paper. What was to become of such a form? Would the artist paint anew, or would it be decided that painting was simply not worth the time and effort? How did the world come to be like this? A world that was filled with such colors; how could they all just vanish? It was all here just a moment ago, wasn’t it? There was… there was a noise… Yes, it was called… a shriek? Yes, the woman in front of me; what did I call her? Mother was it? She was the first to go. I think I held onto something… I thought… it was important… It had something in it… I just can’t remember. Now the world filled with music, joy, wonder, suffering and pain is gone. Now all that is left is me. Am I the last to leave? I close my eyes and I feel something. It’s a key. I turn it around and around then wait for the music to stop. Whee another short story! I always imagined this story being told from the perspective of a child who witnessed the end of the world. Trying to hold on to memories as they slip away, they all wait for the music to stop. I hope you enjoy!
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- End of the world
- 15 minute writing
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