The Talking Heads

Day 491.

Why do I write these entries? Nothing has changed since Day 97. They arrived in such force, with such ferocity. We stood no chance. By the time the military rallied, we were defeated. Reminds me of my high school days playing football. The punt is sent down field.  Landing graciously in my arms.  We return a full 120 yard touch down. Untouched.

We were sloppy and unorganized. In less than one week, humanity was enslaved.

A booming voice wakens the entire northern hemisphere at the same time. We all eat the same. Dress the same. Look the same. The voice beckons orders from large monitors every several hundred meters. We march as instructed.

“Don’t look up,” I hear one person say.
“Why, mom?” A small boy replies.
“Because my son, you will be shot.”

Rows upon rows of humans are sent to work detail. Our days are long, but not long enough to kill us. At least, not right away. Death tolls are high, but our race has seen higher. We are still clothed and fed. The sick are attended to, but no better care than a field trauma unit. Surgery is almost non existent.

This is perhaps our darkest era. It only dawned on me recently why we weren’t eradicated. Ten billion humans can harvest the last remanence of Earths resources a lot faster than a festering intruder. Once Earth was on the verge of death, then we would no longer be of use. Or so had I hoped.

The intruders began constructing large vessels last month. My fear is that we will be moved to these “Ark’s” and transferred to another world. Continuing our enslavement.

When you can command 10 billion bees to continue making honey, you don’t hit the off switch.

via Daily Prompt: Farce


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