Friday, January 29, 2016

Security Benefit Association Cemetery

Built in 1929 as the hospital for Security Benefit, the Menninger Foundation purchased the land and resided here
until moving to Houston in 2003. Photo courtesy Aaron Hill and Wikipedia.
The Security Benefit Association was incorporated in Topeka, Kansas on February 22, 1892. It was a fraternal society that had an elaborate program that cared for the elderly, orphans and members who needed medical attention. A hospital, with a bright white clock tower that can still be seen from many places in Topeka, was built in 1929. In 1959, the Menninger Foundation purchased the land.

Menninger's was started in 1919 by Dr. Charles Menninger and his sons Drs. Karl and William Menninger. They purchased a farmhouse on the northwest corner of Topeka where their clinic began. In 1929, Menninger's purchased the Security Benefit land and remained there until moving to Houston, Texas in 2003.

In 1925, a cemetery was started by Security Benefit on the west edge of the property along Wanamaker Road. It was used by members of the home who had died. Before the cemetery, members were just sent home to buried by family. There are 163 burials in the cemetery and all of them have the same style of gravestone. The last burial was in 1957.

JAN. 17, 1856
DEC. 6, 1927


1861 - 1939


1860 - 1931


1846 - 1928


1856 - 1928


1851 - 1940


1857 - 1933


1850 - 1927

1859 - 1926


1857 - 1927


1850 - 1925


1853 - 1928

Security Benefit Association Cemetery, Topeka, Shawnee County, Kansas

Thursday, January 28, 2016

DEC. 22
JAN. 23

Rochester Cemetery, Topeka, Soldier Township, Shawnee County, Kansas

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

for her Husband


Died Apr. 11, 1891
Aged 52 Yrs. 9Ds.
Remember friends as
you pass by
That all mankind are
born to die.
Then let your cares on
Christ be cast.
That you may dwell with
Him at last.

Oak Ridge Cemetery, Perry, Kentucky Township, Jefferson County, Kansas

Tuesday, January 26, 2016


BORN OCT. 18, 1829

DIED FEB. 4, 1905

Gone but not forgotten.

Medina Cemetery, Kentucky Township, Jefferson County, Kansas

Monday, January 25, 2016


Son Of
Christopher & Laura L.
Born Nov. 27, 1881
DIED Mar. 12, 1889
8 Ys. 3 Ms. 15Ds.


Infant Son of

South Side:
Apr. 9, 1846
Sept. 14, 1884.
Gone but not forgotten...

West Side:

July 6, 1881
33 Yrs. 5 Mo.
28 Ds.
Remember friends as you
walk by
As you are now, so once was I.

Christopher Stark was a butcher and cattle buyer who was asleep in the caboose of a cattle train when his train clipped another, crashing and killing all onboard.

Oak Ridge Cemetery, Perry, Kentucky Township, Jefferson County, Kansas

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Sunday Comics #15: Winsor McCay and The Rarebit Fiend

Winsor McCay was a pioneer in everything cartoons. You could say that he perfected the way comic strips are done today and developed animation so that your cartoons could be viewed like a movie. McCay was either born in Spring Lake, Michigan or in Canada in either 1867, 1869 or 1871. McCay would spend most of his childhood drawing cartoons and early in his career would draw editorial cartoons and commercial art. While working in Cincinnati and working on a comic strip based on a poem by George Randolph Chester, McCay's work caught the attention of James Gordon Bennett of the New York Herald. McCay soon moved to New York where he would work on Mr. Goodenough, Sister's Little Sister's Beau, and Phurious Phinish of Phoolish Philipe's Phunny Phrolics. None of these strips would last long but in July 1904, McCay introduced Little Sammy Sneeze whose sneeze would build panel-by-panel until it was released with disastrous and humorous results. Little Sammy Sneeze would last until December 1906.
In 1905, McCay came up with the idea for Little Nemo in Slumberland in which a little boy named Nemo would have fantastical dreams ending with his awakening in the last panel. Nemo would become McCay's most popular strip lasting from 1905 to 1914 and again from 1924 to 1926. McCay's longest-running strip would be one with no recurring characters but also with fantastical element. Dreams of the Rarebit Fiend began in 1904 and the premise was simple: a collection of random people would have a bad dream caused by eating Welsh rarebit. The last panel would have the person wake up promising not to eat rarebit again. The strip ended in 1913 but was revived in 1923 as Rarebit Reveries which lasted until 1925.

Rarebit Fiend inspired McCay to test out animation and McCay wound up creating four short cartoons taken from the strip including How a Mosquito Operates and The Pet.

McCay focused mostly on animation after the 1920s until July 26, 1934 when he complained to his wife, Maude, of a headache. McCay discovered that his right arm--his drawing arm--was paralyzed, collapsed, and was pronounced dead of a cerebral hemorrhage later that day.

In 1906, Edwin S. Porter produced a seven-minute live-action adaptation of Dream of the Rarebit Fiend:

Friday, January 22, 2016

DEC. 23, 1869
DEC. 7, 1936

Rochester Cemetery, Topeka, Soldier Township, Shawnee County, Kansas

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Randy #5


“You were the only guy there?” Nathan asked Brian before taking a drink of his beer.

“Yeah, but it was fun. I’m going back next month,” Brian said.

“You also get to spend time with Chrissy,” Randy said. “You should ask her out. It’s clear she likes you.” Randy’s name was announced from the man at the karaoke stage. “Already?”

“We put our names in right when they got here,” Nathan said as Randy went up to the stage. “Why haven’t you dated anyone seriously since Becky?”

“I don’t know. I just never found anyone,” Brian shrugged.

“Bull. You haven’t even tried,” Nathan took another drink. Randy began ‘The Joker’. “I agree with Randy. You should ask out Chrissy and see what happens.”

“And ruin our friendship? No thanks,” Brian scoffed and took a drink of his own beverage. His phone suddenly chirped. “Speak of the devil. Text from Chrissy.”

“Text her back using the eggplant emoji and see what happens,” Nathan suggested.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Brian texted back to Chrissy and sat his phone back down. “How are things between you and Jess? I heard that you two have started dating again.”

“Yeah. I don’t know where it’s leading but we’re having fun. I’m having fun. I think she’s having fun,” Nathan said. Brian’s phone chirped again. “What’s Chrissy texting you about?”

“She’s just asking me about my night. She must be bored.”

“That is a much harder song to sing along to than I imagined,” Randy said as he sat back down at the booth. “Brian, I think you’re up next.”

“I didn’t even want to do this,” Brian grumbled as he slid out of the booth just a second before his name was called.

“Give her your number,” Nathan said.

“She’s a waitress in a bar. She probably gets hit on all the time,” Brian said.

“Just give her your number when you pay for your tab,” Randy said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I guess,” Brian wrote his phone number on a slip of paper and stuck it in with the dollar bills. The waitress came by and took the money along with Randy and Nathan’s and went back to the bar. Brian, Nathan and Randy watched discreetly as she went through the money, found the slip of paper, rolled her eyes and threw it away. “Hmm. That kind of hurts more than I expected it to but I get it.”

“Come on, let’s go. It’s time for part two of tonight,” Randy said.

They all got into Brian’s car and drove away. “So where am I driving to?”

“Head down the highway, past 151st,” Randy directed. “There’s a good place near there on a hill where we should be able to find some.”

Brian began driving, music playing softly from the radio. “Why do you want to do this? You do realize that we are in our late 20s, right?”

“I know but it’s one night of reliving our youth. We can go back to being our boring old selves tomorrow,” Randy said.

“I like my boring old self,” Brian muttered. “What if we get caught? It’s not when we’re sixteen or seventeen anymore.”

“When have we ever gotten caught?”

“Remember when we were stealing that street sign and a cop car flashed their lights at us from a parking lot on the next block then started driving toward us?” Nathan reminded.

“But we didn’t get caught. We quickly drove away and was able to outrun the cop,” Randy corrected.

“I still have that street sign,” Brian smiled. “It’s in my storage closet but I still have it.”

They continued driving, reminiscing occasionally, until they arrived at their destination. Clarion Woods Park was a new subdivision being built off of 175th and Pflumm. Right now, it was just an area of dirt with flattened areas where the roads would be placed. “Look at all these hills,” Randy said. “I think there are some up there on that ridge,” he pointed.

“This is stupid,” Brian complained but walked with Randy and Nathan up the ridge to the row of four port-o-potties at the top. “All right, now what?”

“Now we each do our thing,” Randy said deviously. He went into one of the port-o-potties. Nathan went into another one. Brian went into another but didn’t know what to do. He started to pee on the seat but it back splashed onto him so he just peed in the toilet.

Brian was out of the port-o-potty first with Randy a minute or so later. Nathan came out several minutes later. “Okay, that was stupid. Let’s get this over with.”

They each went behind their portable bathroom and began pushing. Soon, all three tipped over and began sliding down the hill, the sloshing of the toilet water barely audible over the loud thud of the plastic walls.

Randy and Nathan were giddy with excitement as they all ran back to the car. Brian started the car and pulled away, shaking his head. “What was wrong with us back then? You would think that with all the stupid, moronic things we did that we were high all the time.”

“I sometimes was,” Nathan admitted.

Brian’s phone chirped and he noticed that he had five messages from Chrissy that came in while he was out playing with the portable bathrooms. “What does Chrissy want?” Randy asked.

“We’ve just been talking all night. Not much else,” Brian said. He looked at the latest message that came in: I guess you’re in bed. Maybe you can come over some other night. G’Night. Brian typed in ‘good night’ but then deleted it and sat the phone back down.

When Brian got home to his apartment, he grabbed another key off of the key hook and went back downstairs to his storage closet. Behind some boxes, a green street sign leaned against the back wall. Printed on the metal sign were the words ‘Lone Elm.’ He took the sign, closed the door, and got out his phone.

Are you up for a road trip some time? he texted to Randy. He went back to his apartment and his phone bleeped.

Sure, just let me know when.


Wife of

May 13, 1862

62 Ys. 3 Ms.
13 Ds.

Rochester Cemetery, Topeka, Soldier Township, Shawnee County, Kansas

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Blackfaw #1

The journey from Illinois was long but the journey from Westport to MacPherson seemed to be even longer. MacPherson barely existed but it had ample land for farming which was what beckoned Jonathan Anderson to Kansas. Jonathan brought his eldest son, 17-year-old Nathaniel, and 14-year-old Emma to the prairie. His wife, Abigail, and youngest daughter, Lucy, stayed behind in Illinois while the three of them got settled.

The wooden cabin sat on 30 acres half a mile from town. It was here that Jonathan, Nathaniel and Emma would stay while they farmed the land and built a new house. The first few days were uneventful but in the afternoon on the third day, a group of men came up to the cabin while Nathaniel was splitting wood and Jonathan and Emma were getting ready to start plowing the back field.

“You’re from Illinois?” one of the men asked.

Jonathan looked at the men uneasily. “Yeah,” he answered.

“One of them damned abolitionists?” another asked.

“I’m not here for any politics,” Jonathan answered. “I just came here for the land.”

“But you’re gonna vote,” another man sneered. “So who you gonna vote for?”

“The man I think will do a good job,” Jonathan shrugged. “What do you want?”

“You out if you’re one of those free-staters.”

“I don’t care which way the territory blows. I’m just here for the land,” Jonathan assured and went back to helping Emma.

“Well, you better pick a side,” one of the men threatened. “Cuz if you ain’t with us, then you have no business being here.”

“I’m going to kindly ask you to get off of my land,” Jonathan said.

“We’ll be back,” another man said.

Shortly after the men left, Nathaniel came over to Jonathan and Emma. “What side are we on?”

“We will respect whatever the people decide but, for what it’s worth, I’m personally opposed to slavery. I don’t think it’s right nor do I really see a reason for it. Was I going to tell them that? Not a chance. The whole thing will be decided soon and, honestly, even if slavery is chosen, I don’t see it lasting much longer.”

Another week had went by. The house and farm were coming along nicely and it would be only a couple more weeks before Jonathan would send for his wife and daughter. It was a cool night when the horses came riding up to the house. The men hopped off their horses and began lighting tree branches for torches. They each went to a corner of the house and rested the torch near. Within minutes, the house was engulfed. The men each stood by a possible exit with their guns aimed. A figure came running for the back door, the man fired and the figure went down.

The other men came around to that side to look and see who he shot. They carefully approached the burning house and saw that the person they shot was Nathaniel. They watched as the body in the doorway of the house.

“Think we got everyone, George?” one of the men asked.

“No one could survive that,” George spat. “Come on, men. Let’s get out of here before the sheriff arrives.”

The men climbed back on their horses and rode away from the burning house and town. Several hundred yards from the house was a small creek. Emma waited on the banks of the creek for nearly an hour after the men rode away watching, through her tears, her family’s new house burn. When she saw the townspeople trying to put out the fire, she walked back up the house.

“Good lord, we thought the fire got everyone,” the sheriff said. “Do you know how this started?”

“Those men started it. Those…buckwackers or whatever they are called. They started the fire and they shot Nathaniel as he tried to escape,” Emma started crying harder. “They rode off that way about an hour ago,” she pointed down the road, past the creek.

“Well, they’re long gone now,” the sheriff sighed. “We know who you’re talking about but there’s no way we could catch them now.”

“What am I supposed to do? No one is going to bring them to justice, my father and brother are dead, I have no home and my mother is back in Illinois,” Emma sobbed.

“Figure out a way to get back to Illinois, little girl,” the sheriff said. Most of the crowd had dispersed as the house smoldered. The bodies of Jonathan and Nathaniel were loaded onto a cart and it was being wheeled away toward town. “There’s nothing here for you anymore.”

Lucia Ophelia Case was born to Almon and Betsy Benton in Spencer, New York. She was the second wife to prominent Kansas lawyer Alderial Hebard Case, also known as A.H. Case or Hib Case. She was admitted to the Kansas bar in 1895.

Lucia Case was the first female attorney in the state of Kansas. Her ashes, according to her wishes, were scattered over the ocean in Hawaii where she died.


JULY 25, 1851

FEBRUARY 27, 1925


Topeka Cemetery, Topeka, Shawnee County, Kansas

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Moaning Lisa

I'm going to try a new format starting with this #ElevenSeasons as it was getting hard to write long, winding posts and they were kind of dry and boring. Hope you enjoy it and if you have any suggestions, let me know.

Episode Number 7G06 (#106)
Created by Matt Groening; Developed by James L. Brooks, Matt Groening, Sam Simon
Written by Al Jean & Mike Reiss
Directed by Wes Archer
Executive Producers: James L. Brooks, Matt Groening, Sam Simon
Starring Dan Castellaneta, Julie Kavner, Nancy Cartwright, Yeardley Smith, and Harry Shearer
Guest Starring: Ron Taylor

Lisa is standing in the bathroom looking in the mirror while Homer bangs on the door. Lisa is too sad and doesn't really know why except to wonder "what's the point." At school, in an effort to feel better, Lisa begins playing jazz music during Mr. Largo's class. Mr. Largo immediately puts a stop to it. During gym class, Lisa refuses to move out of the way of the balls during dodge ball because she is sad requiring a note to be sent home.
Later, Lisa is yelled at again by Homer for playing her saxophone, Lisa starts crying causing Homer to apologize and Lisa just opts to practice her fingering. As she lays down, Lisa hears another saxophone in the distance and leaves the house to find out where it is coming from and meets Bleeding Gums Murphy.
The two talk music and jam together until Marge arrives to take Lisa home. The next day, Marge gives Lisa some advice that her mom gave her when she was a young girl. All Lisa has to do is smile and push all of her problems deep down inside of her. Lisa does and is immediately taken advantage of by two boys and told to cause problems in music class by Mr. Largo. Upset, Marge tells Lisa to be herself and if she's sad, be sad and that the family will always be there for her. That makes Lisa happy and that night, the whole family goes to the Jazz Hole to hear Bleeding Gums play.

Meanwhile, Homer is fed up with getting his butt kicked by Bart when they are playing a video boxing game.
The graphics were so lifelike in 1990.
In order to get revenge, Homer trains with another kid at the arcade and nearly defeats Bart for the first time ever until Marge unplugs the television so that the boys will listen to Lisa. Bart retires from playing video boxing remaining undefeated.

Stray Observations

  • The Simpsons have Glum brand toothpaste in the bathroom. That's probably why Lisa is sad.
  • Mr. Largo (to Lisa): "There's no room for crazy bee-bop in 'My Country 'Tis of Thee.'"
  • When Homer can't answer Lisa's legitimate questions about life, he instead gives her a "pony ride" on his knee.
  • Why is Homer so bad at this video game? Most games I was better than my Mom but there were some games where she was much better. You'd think Homer could at least land a couple of punches.
  • Bleeding Gums Murphy (to Lisa): "You play pretty well for someone with no real problems."
  • Marge (to Lisa, after finding her with Bleeding Gums Murphy): "Lisa! Get away from that jazz man.
  • I think Lisa's song was the first Simpsons-related thing I heard on the playground at school the next day:
"I got a bratty brother,
He bugs me every day.
And this morning my own mother,
she gave my last cupcake away.
My Dad acts like he belongs,
He belongs in a zoo.
I'm the saddest kid in grade number two."
  • During a news program, Homer gets very upset that a fire destroyed Barney's Bowlarama.
  • Bart (to Moe, over the phone): "Is Jacques Strap there?"
  • Two games at Noiseland Video Arcade are "Eat My Shorts" and "Robert Goulet Destroyer".
  • This is a very progressive episode, dealing with a side of depression that a lot of people just don't get. It's great that Marge realizes that her advice, and by extension, her mother's, is crap. In a lot of shows, it's common to pass off these emotions as invalid. This episode doesn't do that nor does it try to give a reason for Lisa being sad. She's just sad, what more of an explanation do you want?

The Sage Family was a prominent family in the early days of Kansas. The family immigrated to the United States from England in 1847. The Sage brothers, all became stone masons and build the east wing of the Kansas State Capitol building. They also built Dover landmark, the Sage Inn, from 1865 until 1878.

The Sage Inn was built along Mission Creek where two trails crossed. Alfred Sage operated in the Inn and Stagecoach Station from 1865 until his death in 1905. The Sage family founded the town of Dover, naming it after their homeland in England. Many Sage's still live in the area.

Feb. 14, 1843
Jun. 24, 1892


A young Henry Sage
An older Henry Sage and wife
The Sage Family

The Sage Inn in Dover. Photo by caseytop.

Topeka Cemetery, Topeka, Shawnee County, Kansas

Monday, January 18, 2016

Edward McCabe was born in Troy, New York to a small, racially mixed family that moved around from New York to Massachusetts, to Rhode Island, and then to Chicago where he received his education, becoming a lawyer, before arriving in Kansas in 1878. He settled with the Exodusters in the black community of Nicodemus in Graham County where he became a clerk and practiced law.

In 1882, McCabe was elected state auditor and held the office until 1886. He continued working with Republicans and attempted to run for state treasurer in 1889 but lost. McCabe then went to Washington, D.C. to lobby newly-elected President Benjamin Harrison to champion African American voting and civil rights. McCabe then moved to Guthrie, Oklahoma where he was persuaded by Preston Plumb, a member of the U.S. Senate from Kansas, to start a black community. McCabe headed south where he founded Langston.

For a short time, it seemed that there would be a large contingent of black settlers in Oklahoma and McCabe would be their leader but the idea caused hatred and fear among the white settlers and many American Indians. McCabe was not a very effective leader as he never fully helped promote the black cause or alleviate white fears. Instead, McCabe focused on his own political ambitions. He founded the Oklahoma Colored Agricultural and Normal School and was appointed Logan County's first treasurer and it seemed as if McCabe was gearing up to make Oklahoma an "all-black" state and was hoping to be appointed territorial governor.

Unfortunately, the political parties divided along racial lines causing Republicans to rethink strategies. McCabe served as assistant auditor for the Oklahoma Territory under several governors but lost that job when Democrats took over when Oklahoma became a state. McCabe fought against Plessy v. Ferguson and even argued in front of the Supreme Court that separate but equal was unconstitutional but the Court held that it did not violate the Constitutional.

McCabe left Oklahoma sometime in 1908 for Chicago where he died in 1920, forgotten. His body was returned to Topeka where he was buried in Topeka Cemetery. In 2002, eighth graders from Eisenhower Middle School raised money to replace McCabe's crumbling gravestone.


SARAH J.             EDWARD P.
1866 - 1938            1850 - 1920    
                                   STATE AUDITOR 1882 & 1884
                                                SEC. OF NICODEMUS TOWN CO.
                                               FOUNDER OF LANGSTON, OK.

Topeka Cemetery, Topeka, Shawnee County, Kansas

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Liberty #56: I Was Hitler / The Last Man

I Was Hitler

“Six months. Six months I waited for this. Of all the people who came before. Of all the people I could’ve been…why him?” I said out loud, complaining to no one. I picked up the paper and
read over the names of my former lives again.

Joshua Wilson Donald, July 26, 2023 – alive
Marcus Anthony Fordham, January 19, 1987 – July 25, 2023
Robert Angelo D’Agostino, May 1, 1945 – January 18, 1987
Adolf Hitler, April 20, 1889 – April 30, 1945
Nikolai Kremlov, March 18, 1783 – April 19, 1889
Christopher Aiokiev, August 17, 1709 – March 17, 1783

The name just stood out to me, mockingly. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and dialed my sister Emily. “Hey, Emily, you know the appeals process for your past lives?” Emily had worked at the Department of Health and Human Services-Former Lives Division since her sophomore year of college and knew that area like the back of her hand. “Has anyone ever successfully appealed to not have their past lives publically listed?”

“Not in the fifteen years I’ve been with the DHHS and I don’t think there has been a successful appeal since this whole former lives thing started nearly 40 years ago.”

“Why do they have to make the lives public?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I don’t want mine,” Emily said.

“Can you come over after work? Maybe you can help me put this into perspective.”

When Emily arrived, I let her in and she immediately grabbed the paper with my former lives on it and began reading. “Holy shit. Hitler? I’ve never known anyone with someone famous in their past lives. I mean, I know it’s Hitler but still,” Emily said, ecstatic about being related, even generations apart, to someone well-known.

“It’s not that one I’m worried about. I think we’ve all decided how we feel about Hitler but, here,” I handed Emily some papers that had been printed off of a website.

“Nikolai Kremlov?” she read. “What the hell? Raped and killed about 30 young children in Petropavlovsk, Russia between 1825 and 1847. The bones of the children were found after he died in 1889 buried under his house in shallow graves. At least it’s not as bad as Hitler.”

“Two murderers in a row. Do you know who else has two murderers in a row?”

Emily shook her head and shrugged.

“No one. I did a search. A lot of people have one killer in their former lives but none of them have more than one. And my life only goes back 345 years. I saw lives that went back 3,000 years none of them had two killers,” I shouted. I sat down in a chair and looked at the floor.

“I’m sorry, Josh. I don’t know what to tell you,” she came over to me and placed her hand on my shoulder. “You know you’re nothing like Hitler or Nikolai Kremlov, right?”

“I guess but still. It’s a little disarming,” I looked up at Emily and grinned a little.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to grab dinner?” she asked me.

“Yeah, I could go for some food.”

I grabbed my keys off the table and she sat the former life and Nikolai Kremlov papers on the table. As we walked out the door, she chuckled. “If you ever get really bossy, people can tell you that you are ‘literally Hitler.’”

“Thanks, that makes me feel so much better,” I rolled my eyes.

“I knew it would.”

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The Last Man

He went to bed late. It was the sun that woke him up. As he got ready for the day, everything seemed normal. It wasn’t until he went downstairs and out of the apartment building that he noticed no one else was around. The city was eerily quiet, somewhere it sounded like a loose sign was banging against its pole. The stoplight at the corner continued working like there were still cars approaching the intersection.

“Hello?” he shouted, his voice echoing throughout the canyons of street. He pulled out his cell phone and began texting to everyone in his contacts. Three simple words: Are you there? No immediate responses. He slid his phone back in his pocket and began walking down the street. He decided to go to his best friend’s apartment, not expecting much.

As he walked through the neighborhoods, nothing changed. No people emerged, no sounds insinuating life erupted, no clue as to what happened showed itself. He arrived at his friend’s building and walked up the stairs to his floor and knocked on his door. No answer, as he expected. He tried the knob, which was locked.

“Hello?” he shouted, loud enough so that if anyone was in the building they could hear him. When no one acknowledged his presence he began kicking the door in which he accomplished on his third try.

Everything was how he remembered it except there was no evidence of his friend or of what happened. He began wondering what could’ve happened and why he was still here. He closed his friend’s door and began walking home. It seemed to have gotten quieter as he could now hear the soft click of the traffic lights changing color.

When he got home, he turned on the TV which still had programs on it. Pre-recorded and pre-scheduled stuff were airing just fine. News channels, live feeds, however, were either off the air or were just showing an empty desk.

It was weird watching the TV show reruns. Even though he was a human and had been around humans all his life, seeing these…creatures…was strange to him.

He got online and all of it, at least the sites he went to, were working well but nothing had been updated in almost twelve hours and no one had posted what, if anything, had happened which made him think everyone disappeared at the same time.

He began posting things online. Comments, Facebook posts, Tweets and even things on Reddit and other random social sites hoping someone else was out there but there were no new updates and no responses.

What was he supposed to do now? Why was he left here? Where did everyone else go? If no one comes back and he doesn’t disappear, how long could he live? A few weeks? Months? A year or more? To him, all of those were a good possibility. How would he pass the time? Sooner or later everything would stop working because no one was around to keep things running.

Should he travel? Should he stay here in case it all goes back to normal? As he thought about all these different scenarios and attempted to find a way to handle them, there was a knock at his door.

He quickly turned his head and stared at the door. Whatever was on the other side of the door, knocked again.