He sat on the cold,concrete steps that lead up to the last standing building. He hasn’t seen anyone but himself which he was only able to do by looking at his reflection in shards of ash smeared glass. The long, slow breaths he took helped him calm down, and the deep breathing helped him cope with the fact that he was the last human being alive. He stood up. His legs aching along with the rest of his exhausted body. He made his way up the steps and into the building.

The building seemed to be a bank. There was a long counter with posts lined along it. It was a surprise that they were still straight up. All the windows were shattered, and the doors were missing. Large chunks of concrete from the top, outside portion of the bank were lying every where in the central portion of the building. The majority of the ceiling was missing.

He walked around the bank warily making sure not to injure himself on any of the debris. He made his way behind the counter into an office area. Sitting on the still standing desk was a book. It was a book he has never seen before. The pages were slightly legible because of the ash. There was an office chair behind the desk that he went to sit in, but he soon realized he couldn’t. Black blood from the dead man’s face stained the white and blue tie. He moved the man onto the floor.

He sat down and stared out a shattered window blankly. He was tired and didn’t want to think about how he was going to survive tomorrow. His weak eyelids slowly started closing while he was looking at the barren land outside the bank. His eyes closed. He kept thinking even though he didn’t want to. He thought about being the last man alive. He thought about what he needed to do as the last man alive.

He was almost asleep when there was a knock on the office door.