This world is dead. Its vitality has long faded away, drained by our insatiable lust for more power, more land, more satisfaction. What was it like, I wonder, for the early humans to live in a world untainted by their own ambitions? Could they live in peace, satisfied that they were doing everything in their power to survive, to live another day, or were they too inflamed by the desire for more?

  The world is dead. Why else have suicide rates skyrocketed, do clouds belch burning rain, do men and women sit in prisons of steel or mind due to another persons crimes? In this dead world of mine, what am I to do but sit here in this chair and wallow in acceptance? There is no healing to be given from this broken body, no action I can take to relieve the burden of the Earth.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  All I can do is sit here in this chair, while my body wastes away. All I can do is stare at this screen, as its synthetic light slowly devours my eyes and mind.

  So you must understand how much this development has excited me. A world fresh from humanity’s interference. A world ripe for adventure, for exploration, for life. A world I might finally be able to do something to make a change, both for myself and my surroundings.

  Somewhere I might finally be able to stand up on my own.