Extinct in the Wild

Below is the story Seth submitted to UCO’s student magazine, New Plains Student Publishing, when he was a student. Though not selected for publishing, this story was in the final running to be selected.           

            “Quit tapping the glass dear.”

            “Can I take it home mommy?”

            “No sweetie, it’s against the rules.”

            “But mommy!”

            “No buts! Come on, the zoo is closing now.”

            “Yes mommy.” When the little girl backed away from the glass, she left a small circle of fog on it. Shortly after the two left the over-head lights turned off, the only light left emanated from the numerous small enclosures in the building. The last worker meandered around on his closing-patrol. He took his time to admire the animals so he could take in their natural beauty. He always reminded himself that he was lucky to see such creatures, as much on display were the last of their kind.

            He stopped at his last and favorite creature and took a moment to read the plaque. It was an oval covered in bright greens, blues and yellows that leaned against the base of the panel of glass. The history of the bizarre animal fascinated him greatly; there was so much information still unknown. The plaque only offered vague details on its origins and the only concrete fact they knew about it in red letters: “Mass Extinction: Extinct In The Wild.” He felt sad for the little guy. It looked so scared, so alone.

            “At least you’re safe here,” the worker said with a grin. The creature turned its head, as if reacting to the worker’s voice, and showed him its small vacant eyes. “See you tomorrow buddy.” The guard turned and walked out of the mammal exhibit. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoed throughout the building.

The purple lights in the ceiling of its enclosure illuminated the worn rope swing in the corner and the red ball under it. The food dishes were pressed against the glass, so viewers could see it if it was hungry or thirsty. The three walls were covered in a picture of a tree in a meadow with a smiley-faced sun high in the sky and an empty beach far in the distance. In the wash of the purple light it looked dreamlike, maybe even nightmarish. The only sound was the lights’ low hum. The light bled out of the thick glass that separated the being from the outside world and landed on the plaque. It distorted the colors into a dark muted blue. The name of the species was the biggest thing printed on it: HUMAN (HOMO SAPIEN).

The creature crawled into the rope swing and stared blankly at the bare ceiling between the two humming lines of violet. The hum marched on through the night.

It was safe.