Animal protagonist post human apocalypse
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A few degrees of warming and our food crops might die. So many countries have nuclear weapons an erratic narcissist has access to our button. I began work on this story because I’d read Paul Kingsnorth’s The Wake and kept thinking that he’d struck upon a fascinating genre: post-apocalyptic historical fiction. Even the least violent extinction would’ve felt heartbreaking to the final victims, though.
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Murdered, starved of resources, passively outbred… we’re not sure. Then Homo sapiens migrated north and the Neanderthal went extinct. During that era, Europe fluctuated between woodlands and plains as temperatures rose or plunged. More trees, sometimes – the Neanderthal clung to a tenuous existence, both individually and as a species, because of climate instability. She might not have felt so shivery at night – Neanderthals were perfectly capable of building campfires – but much of her life would’ve been marked by cold.Īnd more megafauna, creatures like mammoths, bears, lions, and wolves. She lived in Europe approximately 40,000 years ago, a time when Europe was much chillier than it is now. I was writing a short story about one of the last Neanderthals and wanted to know more about what my protagonist’s nights might have been like. And a whole lot of people have to do it.īut that’s not why I was outside. Sleeping shelter-less in wintertime is awful. I’d learned, again, that I am very blessed to have a home. I stiffly rose, limped inside, sloughed off my coat and clothes, then crawled into a warm, soft bed in our dark, quiet, safe room.
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Cars passed, blitzing my eyes with headlights.Īround midnight, I gave up. A few college students walked by I don’t think they noticed me. I pulled my arms close and lay there for several hours, uncomfortable and shivering, but failed to fall asleep. on a chilly night in January 2016, I pulled on my winter coat, asked K once more whether she thought my plan was too foolish, then trundled out to the front yard to sleep in the grass.