As I set down these notes on paper, I'm obsessed by the thought that I may be the last living man on earth
My wife, colleagues, my students, my books, my world, where are they? Did they ever exist?
Am I Richard Pearson? What day is it? Do days exist? Exhausted by terror I fall asleep
Two days I wander in a vague northerly direction through a desolate world. Finally I notice a living creature

I'm just getting warm

I'm just getting warm