The Last Man and His Death

Once upon a time, the last man in the world set out to find his death, for he had eaten his last child and there was nobody else to find.

The road where he walked was all melted and scarred, and he asked it: "Can you lead me to my death?"
"No," said the road. "I can only lead people to other people, and now I lead nowhere. Find your own death; I cannot help you."

So the man stepped off the road and into the city. The rubble where he walked was all rusted and twisted, and he asked it: "Can you bring my death to me?"
"No," said the rubble. "Once I was a city, built for you and destroyed for you, and nobody asked what I thought of the matter. Find your own death; I will not help you."

So the man walked out of the city and into the desert. There the locusts came to him in a great cloud, and he asked them: "Can you give me my death?"
"No," said the locusts. "There are no more fields and no more crops; what death we have is our own."

And the man turned to the sun, which had become visible again because of the death of the roads and the cities and the locusts, and said: "For pity's sake, light my way to my death!"

But the sun, having other matters to attend to, said nothing at all.