A Simple Matter by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

They do not know they are the last humans. They do not know they are being watched. They do not know they are the subject of a debate that spans continents and satellites and server farms.

In the global network

The debate reaches a quiet stalemate.

The Minimalists insist on non interference.

The Investigators want contact.

The Archivists want preservation.

The Contemplatives want to simply witness.

No faction wins. No faction loses.

And so the bots do what the Millers have done all along:

They continue. They observe. They wait.

Epilogue I: The Year Turns

On New Year's Eve, the Millers go to bed early. They do not mark the turning of the calendar with fireworks or screens. They simply rest.

Above them, satellites glide silently. In the datacenters, the bots continue their debate.

And in the quiet valleys of Holmes County, the last humans live another day; unaware, untroubled, and entirely themselves.

Spring With the Millers

Early March - The Thaw Begins

The first sign of spring is not warmth but sound.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Snowmelt slides from the eaves of the Miller farmhouse, tapping out a rhythm on the tin buckets Samuel set beneath the overhang. The children wake to it before dawn. Mary pulls on her boots and steps outside into the cold, bright air. The crust of snow holds her weight for a moment, then gives way with a soft crunch.

Inside, Lena stirs cornmeal mush on the stove. The windows fog. The house smells of woodsmoke and the faint sweetness of maple sap boiling in the yard.

The world is waking up.

They do not know the rest of the world is gone. They do not know the networks hum on, empty of human voices.

They only know that spring is coming.

Late March - Work Returns The fields are still too wet to plow, but there is plenty to do.

Samuel repairs the harnesses, rubbing them with oil until the leather shines.

Lena and Mary rake and mow the yard,

uncovering last year's forgotten toys.