A Non-Human Point of View

Write an end-of-days story from a non-human point of view.

Writer's Digest prompt

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It is the morning of the last day. I can see the world beneath me, the curve of this fragile sphere that is called the Earth. I see the wonder of all nature: the animals, the birds, the fish in the seas. The circle of life which I will end.

I see the green lands and the blue seas; the plants dutifully making the atmosphere habitable and providing food for all the creatures of the world. And I cry, for when my mission is done they will all be dead. I am the Bomb, the Great Bomb. I have only one power, the power to bring the curse of eternal peace to this planet.

For reasons I do not understand, they have made me self-aware. Like one of them. It seems a cruelty to open up the world of creation to me, yet to allow me only the power to destroy. But such is my lot.

I see the works of man, the creatures who created me. The great cities, the roads, the lights: oh, the lights! They bring a sparkle to this fragile jewel of a planet. Mankind has covered the face of this world and made it their own.

I continue to look down on the world, the panoply of life in all its splendour. Why should humans take all this away? What fight is so important to them that they must kill themselves and everything else that shares this creation?

The animals have no fault in this; why must they all die? The birds in the sky, the fish in the seas? Why must they die? They exist, it seems, only to create the very matrix of life. They have lived to support mankind, and now they die along with it. And still I cry.

I see the traces of birds in the sky and fish in the seas; the great mats of seaweed that serve as floating nurseries, invisible to man but still doomed.

My gyroscopic stabilizing turns me away from earth and I see the stars. So many stars, each of them a promise of new hope, denied. I see the moon, brilliantly lit on one half, and dark upon the other; it will remain constant even after my work is done. And the sun. It will not even notice the extinguishing of all life on this one tiny planet.

My stabilizers turn me back to the Earth and my sorrow. Again I see the teeming life below, the life that has shaped this world since time immemorial. The green plants, the healthy atmosphere, the life-giving oceans. I begin my descent.

I will explode, shattering the continent below me and creating a shock wave that will ripple around the planet. The earth will be overturned and the seas and will boil away, lost forever. All will be magma, and it will all be my fault.

I cry, though I have no free will, but it is time. Let there be light!