Because I'm in a new place without a steady job yet, I'm back to freelancing. One of the clients looking to potentially hire me long term wanted to do a trial run with a few tasks beforehand, one being "write a short science fiction story that convinces me to hire you", and I let myself have a little bit of fun with it. Truly, it was too amusing to me not to share.
"The worst thing about being alone at the end of the world, aside from the obvious, of course, was the incessant banging at the door. Sure, it had been terrifying, at first. Plenty of time was wasted nervously sneaking towards the door, squinting in vain for shadows in the gap between the bottom of the frame and the floor, finally gaining the courage to open the door and look outside, only to find nothing, every single time. Not that there was anything but time to waste, here at the end of the world.
Now, however, he was well accustomed to the inevitable nothing that pounded at the front door day and night, or what he could only assume was day and night. It might have been considered a polite nothing, as it only knocked at the front door, and never the boarded windows, or the unused garage, or the barricaded back door. Polite, that is, if it had not become so annoying and incessant, like the worst kind of upstairs neighbor, the kind who must be wearing concrete shoes and defies all other explanations.
His mood began to shift, in the midst of another endless string of endless days, as the pounding became louder and more pronounced. The nothing’s cacophony was quickly promoted from “annoying neighbor” to “hostile intruder”, and, not having faced another being of any sort in a long, long time, he began to cower. The noise outside swelled to a roar that could only indicate imminent success, and simultaneously buried a noise behind him, from the other side of the boarded house. Much to his surprise, suddenly, before him, was his former secretary, a writer from the second moon of Zion. Hired before the world had crumbled, of course. “Don’t worry, sir, I’ve got this.” She charged towards the door, now opening, and he thanked his lucky stars that he had hired a creative writer. God only knew what hidden talents they possessed, and which of them might someday save your life."