Hell

It was the worst of times. The worst of times indeed, and they weren’t getting any better. Cities were no longer cities, but rather a home to those who had brought this agony upon the world. There was no sun in these cities- canopies of smog floated amongst the tallest of buildings, shielding the wasteland from the outside world. The people that inhabited this city had no purpose in their everyday lives- simply to continue to keep the city as dull and hopeless as possible. These people couldn’t even really be considered people, since they had no emotions, no feelings. They were more like the undead, simply wandering upon the earth, trying to find a way to move on to hell. But wait…this place…this place was hell. What else could it possibly be? Satan must have relocated to the Earth, perhaps he found the environment better: there were no trees left, there were no animals, there was no fresh air, and there were no problems with good feelings or happiness. It was Satan’s paradise. These people did not have voices; what did they need them for? People had devolved into cowards. Into worms. They did not dare speak out, and I’m quite sure the word ‘speak’ had been removed from the dictionary…if there was a dictionary left. Perhaps Satan had ordered all literature burned- a private little fire for him. It would be a typical tyrant’s move, the burning of literature. The destroying of words that had kept humans alive for centuries, the words that had invoked thought and wonder of new worlds and planets, the words which caused riots and tears, and caused rejoicing in the streets. Yes. A great idea for a tyrant to burn these books. Erase the past- no one needed them in Satan’s new world, anyways.