The material of the Palace proved, on examination, to be indeed porcelain, and above the face of it I saw an inscription in some unknown characters. I thought, rather foolishly, that Weena might help me to interpret this, but I only learned that the bare idea of writing had never entered her head. She always seemed to me, I fancy, more human than she was, perhaps because her affection was so human.

Within the big valves of the door—which were open and broken—we found, instead of the customary hall, a long gallery lit by many side windows. Even at the first glance I was reminded of a museum. The tiled floor was thick with dust, and a remarkable array of miscellaneous objects were shrouded in the same gray covering. Clearly, the place had been derelict for a very considerable time.

Then I perceived, standing strange and guant in the center of the hall, what was clearly the lower part of the skeleton of some huge animal. As I approached this I recognized by the oblique feet that it was some extinct creature after the fashion of the megatherium. The skull and the upper bones lay beside it in the thick dust, and in one place where rain water had dripped through some leak in the roof, the skeleton had decayed away. Further along the gallery was the huge skeleton barrel of a brontosaurus. My museum hypothesis was confirmed. Going toward the side of the gallery I found what appeared to be sloping shelves, and clearing away the thick dust, I found the old familiar glass cases of our own time. But these must have been air-tight to judge from the fair preservation of some of their contents.

Clearly we stood among the ruins of some latter day South Kensington. Here apparently was the Palæontological Section, and a very splendid array of fossils it must have been; though the inevitable process of decay that had been warded off for a time, and had, through the extinction of bacteria and fungi, lost ninety-nine-hundreths of its force, was nevertheless, with extreme sureness, if with extreme slowness, at work again upon all its treasures. Here and there I found traces of the little people in the shape of rare fossils broken to pieces or threaded in strings upon reeds. And the cases had in some instances been bodily removed—by the Morlocks, as I judged.

I stood at the feet of the large cascading concrete steps in awe. Towering over me was a roof like structure with famous figures from before Christ carved into the marble supported by pillars so tall that it blocked the sun's warm rays, casting a shadow over me and an unsettling chill. I marched up the steep slabs and reached a strong oak and iron door. Without a doubt in my mind, I pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold of present and past.

I was greeted by a lingering smell of dust as I stumbled across the ancient artefacts from across the seven seas. Next, came the strong scent of bleach used on the pristine floors scrubbed until your reflection could be seen through your reflection. I tilted my head and eyes upwards to what I would expect of a ceiling but in fact I saw fractures of glass framed by onyx iron in a never-ending triangular canopy.

My body pivoted eastwards as I prepared myself to greet the one thing that placed me here in the first place.

Things had changed. The small cliff tops were now covered with tall pines, the promenade broken and overgrown. I guess centuries of bird shit had spread many seeds. I wasn’t complaining, it was good to be back in a familiar place.

As I walked through the undergrowth down onto what was once the seafront I had to stop several times to untangle the brambles and creepers snagging around my feet. When I looked up I was shocked. The old pavilion was barely recognisable. Half of the roof had collapsed; the once pristine white concrete now looked almost organic as weeds and Ivy had taken control. A wry smile spread across my face. “So much for progress,” I thought.

An older woman was sitting on one of the few benches that were still intact. She shared her home-baked sandwich with some of the smaller birds that were pecking around. I continued walking.

A man in a black suit was playing a vaguely familiar tune on a violin; I think it was Bach but it had been so long since I’d heard any music that I didn’t really care what it was. Seeing others outside was enough today.

The domed shelters still stood although some of the pillars were cracked, one lay fallen in pieces across the unused path. Time was a blur now. I heard the sounds of concerts long gone and saw images of paintings that had been proudly exhibited before. Before it happened.

The spiral staircase was intact behind broken glass. I didn’t try to climb it, there seemed little point. About to turn back a voice called out.

“You want some coffee Mister?”

A boy of about eleven stood by the broken door holding a thermos. I think this was the strangest thing I’d seen since all this started; I don’t know why - he was friendly enough. I looked at him and nodded.


“It’s a pound, Sir.”

We saw the factory chimney touching the sky before anything else. As we approached, the looming shadow of this monstrous building brought a chill to the spring air. Surrounded by spindly trees, the bricks stood strong like the pyramids of old on the jutting walls, folding like an envelope. The regimental blocks were forever locked in formation like lifeless soldiers reminding us of a mesmerising magic eye picture causing disorientation of the senses. The only sound we could hear was the deep humming of the ancient generator.

As we turned the corner, the resemblance was of a gothic cathedral with its linear glass panel windows. Travelling downwards towards the glass entrance signified by the bright orange signage, we hoped the doors would be unlocked. We were in luck! Standing inside this cavernous caucus we marvelled at the vast space surrounding us and wondered at what we might find in its tunnels and stairwells. In what could only be described as the belly of this beast, an oversized metallic spider stood guard, a relic sculpture from times long forgotten when art was celebrated in this former industrial superstructure.

We ventured towards the smooth concrete curved lines of the staircase leading to an unknown destination. Several winding steps later we reached the very roof where slithers of light cut across the floor scuffed from millions of curious visitors' shoes.

Finding one more set of steps leading still further heavenward, we climbed to the very top and found ourselves on a desolate balcony where the rusty railings overlooked glass apartment blocks formerly inhabited by the richest citizens of the capital. From here we could see across the grey river to the iconic landmarks gathering dust as far as the eye could see. Broken bridges reached across the water offering a connection between these two dimensions. As we gazed out over this dilapidated city, we wondered where it all went wrong.

I never thought anyone would go as far as to napalm the pier. I know there was some time when it wasn’t burned down but that amount of time is insignificant compared to all the time it's been in ruin.

The kids play on the girders, the orphanage probably wasn’t a good idea in retrospect. I don’t think it was one of the orphans who burned it down but I don’t really care. Since the foxes developed corrosive pheromones I don’t really get out that much. The corpses in the street are enough to discourage me. They don’t go near the pier though, so I guess it should be a good place to hang out if you want to live more then 2 minutes without a hazard suit.

I’m not sure how the moose survived the fire but it's still there. The most worthless thing to ever cost over a grand. They were fools in the old world. The priories they had. To be fair it isn’t a lot different now, it's just that people appreciate how short life is and take the time to enjoy the small things, as they are the first to disintegrate.

I would like to see over the sea one more time, it's not like I have much time left anyway, my ear went on Tuesday and I’ll be vapour by the end of the week. It’ll be a good ending, seeing the sparkles of the sun on the sea. Knowing that I’ll be part of what is around me soon, or at least pasted over it.

For the final time I looked towards the sea
Not sure of where I was, who could foresee
This rubble and wasteland. Looking around I knew
That I had travelled so far, and for this preview
Perhaps I could not get back. No I will
Be back from this apocalypse, still
Hell, so different from home. In the chill
Of winter, I saw the burnt out street signs:
Eighty eight miles per hour was more in line
With the sky than the road. Forty
Two more days to live- the end is surely
Near, confetti pamphlets everywhere. What happened
Here? With each wave crashing on soot back water
Compare the sea to a sonnet, strict form with freedom
Like raging tea in a flying cup ever pounding on,
Like wrinkles in time, like prehistoric faltering
Earth- but a very limited thing, this seeing.
Some things don't change I caught a notion- a feeling
Of stuck under a rock with no hope of rescue,
Watching regression back down evolution to
See the nature returning and grass growing
On the curbs. The irony of us, the virus,
Here’s to humanity’s one big darwin award.
Back to the waves- you are my only hope
The force of them perhaps enough to soap
The soot off the street. Yes, two suns will set
Before the sea changes. I want to forget
This- the mission to seek out new civilisation
The crumbling cities, the fallen nation
To seek out new life, where we go next
The overflowing drains, in utter perplexity
I see my final frontier. Don’t blink, don't look
Away, once full of hope, we were mistook
It will take two hearts to survive the bleeding
From this sore sight. Only the perennial blue impending
Me from running. Perhaps looking for a
Blue box to take me home, but fiction
Won’t save us now. Nor demonic bunnies
To set time straight. Now my hope is funny-
The hope I made a paradox and
This future may yet change. If I land
Back to past, I’ll bring a leaf as proof
A little withered white one, as truth,
Which no one could know the natural order
But unlike Well’s world, there are no flowers

- So we’re starting in Sainsbury's right?
> Yeah so I’ve gone for a bath bomb. I’m like, you know what this is time for, I need a chill day, I need a spa. So I’ve walked over to Sainsbury's, ten pounds in my pocket, and I’m like, it’s okay, my budget. I picked up a face mask, picked up a little exfoliant and a bath bomb because I'm feeling fancy.
- But how are bath bombs different in the future?
> Well, you know, instead of just fizzle, they actually bomb, so you don’t need a bath anymore! It’s so silly waiting until you find a bath in your own room. THIS bath bomb in particular, you pick it up, you throw it anywhere you like, and BAM a bath of water appears. BOMB! There you go! So you jump in in the middle of the field and it’s fine, everyone is just like ugh that’s normal. So you jump in, bath bomb, throw on the face mask, it like absorbs to your face, so like imagine the mask of Jim Carey, turning green, and it’s stuck to you for like 24 hours, looks amazing, put it on, you’re having the time of your life, you’re just chilling there inside of your little bath bomb, ugh. And then all of a sudden, what do you know, your bath sprouts legs!
- What legs?
> I was like holy shit what is going on here! All I wanted to do was have a chill bath in the middle of a field, on my own, with a face mask, like Jim Carey.
- I thought you were in Sainsbury's?
> No no no no this is once I’ve left Sainsbury's. Keep up! So I’ve left Sainsbury's, walked out, there’s a field in front of me and bam, bath bomb. BAMB. So I’ve jumped in, face mask, oh no - legs. And all of a sudden, the bath is moving. I’m like, shit, where are we going? Spain, would you know it. Spain!
- Spain?
> Spain! Why are we going to Spain?
- I dunno why are you going to Spain?
> I know it’s silly, why on Earth would the bath take me to Spain? Well I had a couple of euros in my purse, didn't I, that I decidedly forgot about, and this little bath went - we can’t be wasting those! So it’s taking me to the shopping centre in Spain, and I had a little spending spree! Jumped out of my bath obviously, I put some clothes on.
- But how is Spain different in the future?
> Well obviously, it’s at least 60 degrees now. Global warming is a thing, we need to take - right guys, for the listeners out there, wait are there definitely people listening?
- Yeah?
> You’ve got to take global warming seriously! Because Spain. It’s no longer just the nice little suburb it used to be.
- Suburb?
> It is now a boiling island! Just at least 60 degrees, and I’m talking celsius. It is absolutely boiling, and you go into Spain and you think, you know what I want to do, go to the beach. So we go to the beach, but, would you know it, in the future, he fish are about this thick!
- How thick?
> Like ten foot!
- Ten foot?
> At least one size of me! They’re giant! Just roaming around. So what you do is, because obviously the government is absolutely bankrupt at this point, all of the electricity for the cold winter nights, so they decided, how can I make money from this? And they take the grown animals and they go to you, take the animals to give you a ride, €10 every 5 minutes, and you go on them. So if you wanna ride these ten foot creatures you have to pay 10 euros at least. So I jump on this creature and it rides me round, and, what would you know, it took me back to Sainsbury's!
- All the way back? Talk about full circle!
> Then I was a bit drunk at this point so I went to sleep. In the morning I just got up and watched a movie. A note on movies: Classic horror movies used to be wonderful. 1960s they were amazing, honestly they were brilliant because they were classic, you didn’t see it coming, they were genuinely brilliant. And nowadays they’re just clichés, it’s all cheesy shit. I feel like in 20 years time it's just gonna be Freddie verses Jason for the 20th time, but just a load of crap, and we should just give up on horror movies at that point. No one is ever gonna like them ever again. And so the moral of the story is don't get on a bath bomb that explodes. That’s where i’m going with this.
- I thought the moral was also global warming and horror movies?
> No, that is all I have to say. It is all about exploding bath bombs.