Dear stranger,

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It's 03:06 am, Dec 25, and here I am, unable to sleep, starting this letter to you. I got out of bed to drop you a few lines.

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By the time you read this, few human beings might still be alive. I genuinely hope you're among them. If you're alive and somehow retained your human form, chances are you also enjoy 30-minute morning walks. So, please, during your next stroll, if you happen upon a dead body in the park, peacefully resting under a fig tree, free me from the lungs of that lifeless shell. I might be trapped there, with no room to move and no air to breathe.

If you end up being the last person alive, loneliness might be weighing on you, bringing along boredom, struggle, or even the haunting terror of solitude. So, by freeing me from the lungs of the person resting under the fig tree, there will be two of us alive, sharing the burden of existence.

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Nobody_070