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Writer's picturefatheratchley

Last Words




Hello, all; here is my dark and dismal apocalyptic contribution for this year's Halloween stories, a reminder that when things look most bleak and unpleasant, providence provides a silver lining.

 

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“Hello, fans out there.  This is Dana Java calling you from Timbuktu, that fabulous city that used to be famous but now is long dead and nearly forgotten.  ‘Course I can’t give my real location away because all you bloodsuckers out there are dying to get a clue to finding me.  I may be the last human alive on earth, something you vassals of vampiric lust have long forgotten or can no longer comprehend, but I’m celebrating my fifth year on the air today.


“Sorry if I sound like I have a cold.  I’ve come down with some bug, and without proper medical treatment, like anything in life, it will likely prove fatal.  A waste of blood! you morons are thinking.  It matters not; what is of concern is that I will someday rise again to a new life, whereas you will soon be scattered as angry ashes in the world’s pending conflagration.  Yes, the predicted comet that portends earth’s destruction is but weeks away, but how else did we get here? The majority lost hope and succumbed to depraved despair.


“One of my self-assigned tasks on this podcast is to remind you of that—your choice for depravity over virtue in trying times.  Humanity has always been called to magnanimity under trial, and this, our pending ultimate destruction is no different than any other test of uncertainty over the potentially harmful and unknown dangers every day always brings.  But poisoning yourselves with life altering chemicals only prolonged the time of suffering we could otherwise have embraced with virtues of humility and charity.  Instead, you wanted only to comfortably embrace consumption.  What saddens me most is that none of you will ever look back and wish things were otherwise.  You cannot, because your minds have rotted with the injection of precocious potions and passions that neutered your humanity for an endless death of artificial blood consumption. 


“Now a word from our sponsor: this coffee I’m sipping has the savory flavor of a dark autumn night seasoned with a spicy chill of a splash of powdered cream.  Long gone, sadly are our cows and cars and convivial, communal caring—but that doesn’t matter to you vamps so long as your daily TruBlu Bounty Boosters keep your lifeless bodies in motion.


"Now, what was I saying?  Oh yes, back to our literature reading of the day, this time a passage from the Holy Bible.  Sorry to leave you behind, darlings, who no longer understand much less believe in the presence of God and an afterlife you’ve long ago forsaken.  “I am the bread of life…”  Mm! The smell and taste of homemade bread, slathered with butter, nurturing savor for life and providing sustenance for the same.   Life! The smells and sounds and vibrant feelings and thoughts of zeal pursuing the delights we once revered in common for the good of all.  So sorry, little lambs--life is something you can no longer sense or feel, as you’ve defiled yourselves with medicated death. 


"Sadly, I alone can muse: which of us is more alive to hear and act on the wisdom of learned experience?  Me in my grave awaiting resurrection, or you, holding desperately to the empty shells of time and space, nourished with artificial blood until Comet X wipes you out?  May the Savior be praised for redeeming those who wanted true life with the freedom to enjoy it!   


"Having ruffled your feathers, it’s time for me to sign off.  This has been my good deed for the day.  Until tomorrow, you are listening to a recording of Dana Java that will repeat for the limited times to come.  Arrivederci!  Goodbye for the present, hello to a great, big, beautiful tomorrow! 


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