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The Last Alive

by John Taylor © 2004

Now it all comes down to me. I’m the last of the line when I’m gone our entire race will be extinct. Not that the others, those self deluding “higher beings” will be sorry. For centuries they tried to destroy us we won every battle. It didn’t matter what they did, we defeated them. We found a way round their defenses triumphed. They never realized that we could communicate with one another. Not by word or thought, that is much too primitive but in subtle ways that could cross the globe. That’s why we felt sure a method to destroy us would never be found, each sub species differing a little, making their task more difficult.

Suddenly everything has changed. I know who is to blame. His name rings out from the television sets radios. They say he is a genius, the greatest man who ever lived. If he wanted he could become the richest person in the world, but he’s much too modest for that. If only we had got him when he was young, but we rarely do. We prefer to wait patiently in the shadows creep up on our victims as they get older.

When we first arrived here so many millennia ago we almost didn’t make it. It wasn’t until we started to live inside these warm protective bodies that we prospered. They call us tumors cancer, but we call us life, now a “cure” has been found, so our long journey has ended.

My host is going to be injected today so I must prepare myself to die.

Perhaps a new wave of beings such as I will arrive to take our place. If not these humans well might become, like we used to be, immortal.

x x x




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