Almost year has passed. The children don’t even remember the life they had before. Almost everything is lost. The food supply is getting lower. The water is starting to fade away. Even the air isn’t like it used to be before. And still, here they are, still living. Fighting. They want their children to have a happy future. And they will do anything they have so that would happen.

“Mommy, mommy, are we gonna pray to God again? When is daddy gonna set off the fireworks?”
“Any minute now , darling”, she said, with a fake smile on her face. If the children knew, it would break their poor little hearts. So they cannot know. They must not know.

There is no God. There are no people.

But still, they believed in both. They prayed to God every day that someone will find them and tell them that they are not alone. That they are not last. With every signal rocket, they were hoping somebody would come and save them from their misery.

And as every other Sunday, they gathered around the launching pad. But it was not like every other Sunday. It was the last Sunday. It was the last rocket. With tears, the father lit up the wick. Hoping, praying, begging that someone will see it. The rocket flew away. Up from the tree top, leaving it’s sparkling trace behind.

Everything else is gone, but hope dies last.

A family of the last humans on Earth hid away in a tree, so parents could hide that awful truth from their children. Now, they are firing their last signal rocket in hope that somebody out there will see it.