Rain thrashed the walls of the temple.
A shadow moved.
It was the last of the final three humans left on earth.
He was the youngest.
The boy’s thin frame shivered, freeing drops of rain which collected at his feet.
He was unfurling two pieces of paper that he’d slipped out from under his tunic.
He seperated them on the stone floor.
For a while he just stared at them before edging forward to light a candle.
Light danced on the walls.
The old tree before him seemed to step out of the darkness, its ancient roots falling deep into the earth.
“It’s happened again.”
The boy raised one of the pages.
He’d drawn a large triangle with a thick blotch of ink at the base.
The candle flame grew in intensity.
The blotch had been created by hundreds of words and sentences written one on top of the other, masking the paper underneath.
“There were so many voices,” his words cracked. “Maybe we’re not alone.”
He placed the paper on the floor and exhaled deeply.
“I can’t stay long, we’re going to investigate a cave. Dad spotted it a few days ago.”
He held up the second page showing a pencil sketch of a cavernous entrance at the top of a steep hill.
“You remember, the one I dreamed about last week.”
The candle flame licked the electric air.