Imagine you are the last person on Earth. Write a diary entry describing your thoughts and feelings.
Today is the 365th day that I've spent on this earth alone. While one year has passed, my days continue to remain the same. Every night, I wake up at 10:00pm, long before the scorching sunrise, to search for food, water, and any other essential items that I can cart back to my lonely den. My search concludes by 5:00am, which gives me a few hours before the first light and guaranteed death. The heat has become so destructive during the day, that I often find buildings and cars spontaneously up in flames during my nightly travels. It's becoming more and more difficult to find viable food that hasn't yet been burnt to a crisp.

My nocturnal transition is the only reason that I am alive today. I use to look up at the stars in anger that the universe could be so cruel. As time has passed, I have learned to forgive the dwarf star off to the east, as he is just as alone as I am and for far longer. Sometimes I feel ashamed that I don't have a plan other than simply surviving one more day. As the days heat up, so do the nights. It's likely only a matter of months before earth becomes uninhabitable at all hours of the day. I know my existence is becoming increasingly more finite, and even if there are others out there, their future is just as damning.