43 of May, 2046
It was 4 am when I awoke that morning. I was so warm from the immediate temperature change outside. My husband slept soundly beside me. He looks as innocent as he did the day he was born. The year was 2046 and it was the 10 year anniversary of Earth’s demise. Of course, I mean Earth IV. The first, which you all are familiar with, was destroyed by the late president of the “United States,” as they so called the tiny land mass, in the year 2007 during the great “Sand and Sea” war. You might be familiar with it, known as “The War in Iraq.” Christopher served in that war. He protected me, and our country. But enough of that. The temperature always warms up during this time of the year. I’m living on Earth IX. Our weather changes so much more rapidly than it did on the first Earth. We have 12 summers in a year, as goes the same for the other seasons. Yes, a year is still 365 days, but we completely did away with February. 28 days is just a ridiculous number. Or so says the “man of the house.” So its given to all the other months.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the sun still not yet raised over the horizon, yet the imminent heat was unbearable. I threw off the blankets and watched the little clock, on my bedside table, tick by the minutes until 5 am struck. I take fancy to the old world comforts as opposed to all the new which require electrical energy. Yes, some of my antique treasures require electrical energy but I can guarantee that my bill for energy is far less than that of others. Chris believes the less you pay the government the better.
I love my apartment. Spending my time the way I want it (as much as my husband hates to admit it). The tranquil silence is all I need. The city in which my apartment is located isn’t the best, but I’m living in New York XIII, (yes, New York was destroyed too) a town I’ve always wanted to live in. Before Earth II was destroyed, I had my body reincarnated, yet my mind remains the same. I remember everything that has happened to me, I remember the Earth’s destruction. Some of my friends chose to be reincarnated, but many did not. I hated losing them but I cannot save everyone I almost feel immortal, getting reincarnated each time the Great Conflagration comes and devours our homes with a sample taste of the oil the government spreads over our country.
This is my final entry in my dearest diary of which I’ve kept since my first adolescence. And, as I anticipate my long-awaited death, I cannot help but feel perturbed at myself for living so long as others end. Exodus is near, I feel it. The Great Conflagration comes again today. And let me say that the one thing I forebode most is leaving my beloved husband, of whom, within him is my safe-guarded home. My home is where he is, in his heart, my favorite place, forever.