I sit here in the B apartment in my bed, overlooking the vast wasteland that has become the Willard complex. The sky is grey, but there is no rain. The parking lot is filled with debris, newspaper, some sort of weird glitter, and random pieces of costumes from Hallowillard. Its terrifying. On one end the old basketball goal sits crooked with an old bike tired hanging from a string tied to it, while on the other end the skate ramp is filled with pine needles. There is no one to clear it. Everyone is gone. And the scene is like a bleak, post-apocalyptic wasteland.
It happened about four days ago now. On Thursday night the Virginia Tech Hokies won their final home game of the year against the Univerity of North Carolina Tar Heels and ever since then people have started to disappear. Not many at first, but one by one they all left until it was only me. A man alone with his thoughts. And his smartphone. With an eTrade app.
So upon entering this new world I try and find companionship. There is a possum who lurks around these parts, occasionally digging in to our trash when I leave it out. While we once were enemies (I've tried to kill him unsuccessfully many times), we now realize that we only have each other. What once started as a malicious dual of man vs. nature has now turned into some sort of ultimate bond between friends. Our lives depend on each other. I've named him Owen, and now he is all I have.
In this blog the gentleman of the house usually give you an update on the whereabouts of each other. For now I can only give you the last known locations of the men of B. Mike Lewis was to go on a missions trip to Haiti, but his car is still here, so he must have walked. Atta boy Mike. Brendan O'Connor had tickets with his family to see Cirque dul Soleil, but since he hasn't returned I can only guess that he joined them. John Leonard was last seen packing two guns into his car and driving off into the sunset. He must have known the apolcalypse was coming.
As for the rest of the apartments and the house, no signs of life have been detected. I've broken into A twice to reset their internet router, and the boys of C lock their house up pretty tight, so their was no getting in there. The house boys must have dissipated right out of nowhere because all of their glasses are still left on the porch, about thirty in all.
So now as I carouse around this vacant wasteland I can only hope that this is all some sort of dream and that come one day soon (Sunday perhaps) I'll wake up to find all of my dearest friends back home with me. Then I will yet again be able to have Old Testament talks with Joe Danehower and the other house gentleman. I'll be able to get medical advice from Dr. Sweeney. I'll be able to watch the boys of C pwn some n00bs on MW3. I'll be able to shoot things off the deck with the boys of B. What a beautiful day that would be.
But seriously gentleman, I love and miss you all and can't wait till you get back. I hope your break is spiritually refreshing and that your time with your families is great. The gift of community that we have here is unreal and I think I take that for granted. It becomes much more obvious when we aren't in it though. Like a fish out of water eh? Anyway, love you dudes a lot.
The Last Man Standing,
Isaac Lane Nagle III
P.S. The men of B, I asked Owen the Possum to move in, I hope that's alright. Mike, I put him in your room. Be careful though, he doesn't love to be surprised. He also hogs all the blankets.
this is absolutely hilarious
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