“What do you see?” A friend asks. “What does the world look like to you?”

“Well,” I begin to tell them, “it looks something like this:”

I see a world in a permanent winter. Before me lies the ruins of an ancient civilization, crumbling beneath the snow. The world is quiet, with only the brief gusts of wind filling the air.

I am the last living creature in this world.

Every day, I wake up in these ruins, wandering through the old streets, gazing upon the rotting architecture. Hunger and thirst never become an issue, as if the world is frozen in time.

As I roam these streets, I ponder at the idea:

“What purpose do I have in this world?”

The population that once inhabited this land is gone, yet I remain. Trapped in a permanent winter, frozen in time.

“That’s the world I see,” I say to my friend. “Every day, I wake up in this world, wandering, searching for a purpose to my existence, yet I can never find it.”

“Why is that?” The friend asks.

“Because there is none. So, I’ll live until time flows again and the world thaws, beginning life anew.”