Crumbled cities lay strewn upon a torn landscape, only barely beginning to emerge from the thick layer of dust and ash choking the air in the aftermath of destruction. It's the end of the world, at least as we know it.

I wasn't home when the first wave hit; out on some now long-forgotten errand, I had been in the company of strangers when I felt the earth shake and watched the smoke rise in the distance. We ran outside to get a better look; squinting against the sun, I scanned the horizon and saw similar plumes of smoke and ash further away in nearly every direction. Had I known that it would be the last time I saw the sun, I would have lingered, basking in the warm rays, which can no longer reach through the perpetual haze that now envelops the earth.

As the violent shaking and sounds of destruction rapidly grew more intense, the others and I hid inside and tried to search for information. All forms of communication had been disrupted: satellite, television, radio, all silent. Smoke obscured our view from the window. I could not tell you what was happening; the noise of destruction was chaotic, senseless, and unbearably loud, and I was unable to distinguish the source of any single sound. The noise grew closer. One sudden jarring explosion ripped open the side of our refuge, and I glimpsed a view of the sky above us briefly; bright lights, confusing shapes and sounds flashed across my vision only for a moment before the world went black.

I awoke to silence. Buried under layers of dust and debris, I pushed my way upward and emerged in darkness. I called out and received no answer. My search for clues to what had happened, hindered by the thick, choking haze, would prove just as futile. I wandered, for days, weeks perhaps, hoping that I would encounter another.

And then, I found it. Inside an overturned truck, half buried in the thick ash, was a soft glow and crackling static sound piercing the otherwise dead silence. A radio and transmitter. Still on and tuned to a frequency, seemingly from its former owner desperately trying to receive or send information as the madness of destruction had descended. The static sound and occasional whine indicated that it was unharmed and operational, and even though every frequency returned no signs of life, I felt a flicker of hope. I had a voice.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up the microphone and started to speak..