The brown, decaying grass crunches under her feet as she comes to a stop and surveys her surroundings. The once verdant countryside, impregnated with fruit-heavy vines and the gentle sound of the cattle from the neighbouring valley are nought but faint memories as her eyes take in the utterly desolate, despoiled land reaching to the horizon. Her mind briefly lingers on the burnt-out husk of a city that lay just beyond the hills and all the extinct cities beyond that one, but she pushes it from her thoughts. The past cannot be changed.
Crouching momentarily she feels the weight of her harrowing situation. Alone. Perhaps utterly and completely alone. The last member of the human race. As it always does the thought sends an icy chill through her heart. Tensing rigidly, she bursts forwards and begins to run.
Running was all she had left from her old life. She was in control of the moment when she was running, her body moving as it was prompted, crossing space, making a path of her own choosing. The decrepit farm blurs as she kicks into high gear, sprinting for her life, her future, her self.
After minutes she stops and hunching forward gulps in air, her heart racing. Yes, she was still alive. Good.
Suddenly the hairs on the back of neck prickle and she senses something in front of her. Abruptly standing up she takes in the figure that has materialised. A women stands casually about a metre away. Dressed in a white tracksuit and with brown shoulder-length hair, the indigenous woman stares at her, studying her. Slowly a smile breaches her face and is momentarily joined by the girls own beaming grin.
“We’ve got a lot of work to do, Sarah” says Cathy Freeman
Visual Aid: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oBIItwPfl60