The Last Earth Man (At the Space Diner)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Flash Fiction Fun

Featured Review on this writing by Alf McGuire

On interstellar route 9-?^§, in the dead of space between Traxia Minor and Space Land, is Gn’rgl’s Space Diner. This diner attracts all manner of quirky and exotic characters. Including Sam, a real live human from Earth Mark I. And he only charges five space-bucks per holo-pic!

Created: May 07,2021

Based on characters created by Guenevere Lee & Ravi Udit


If you wanted some good food and company, then Gn’rgl’s Space Diner on interstellar route 9-?^§ is the last place anyone would recommend. But if you happened to be lost between Traxia Minor and everyone’s favourite amusement park, Space Land, then it was better to have one of Gn’rgl’s space ‘burgers’ than to starve.

Wallah, her platinum hair piled high in an impressive bee-hive, had just put on a pot of the ‘universe’s best coffee,’ when the doorbell chimed and a family of four walked in. They had green skin – Traxians. The two children bounced behind their parents, releasing their built-up energy from the long space trip.

“‰šØª!”Gn’rgl shouted from the back.

“What was that?” the father asked, affronted.

“Take a seat anywhere you like,” Dunk, the bus-boy, translated as he used his four arms to clear the table.

The family sat at a booth by a window and Wallah was instantly at their side holding a hot, black pot of–

“Coffee?” Wallah asked, already pouring.

“It any good?” the mother asked.

Wallah laughed, “No dearie, but refills are free.”

“Daddy, daddy!” their son squeaked. “It’s the Space Man!” His wide space-black eyes were locked on a Human across the diner.

He was, in fact, the Last Earth Man. Sam Slayton was one of the first American astronauts. His name was stricken from the records after he was shot off course, fell into a black hole, and landed five-hundred years into the future. This was incredibly fortuitous for Sam though, because by the time his ship was found, Earth and all its Humans had exploded.

“Please, can we take a picture, please?” The boy was already jumping up and down, tugging at his father’s arm.

“Dear…” the mother cautioned.

“All right, all right,” he got up and the two walked to Sam’s table.

“Are you really the Last Earth Man?” the boy asked, his green tail wagging.

Sam tried to smile back, but just looked tired. He had set up shop in the diner after interest in the Last Earth Man had died out and interstellar-chat shows stopped booking him. A wooden sign on the table read: “Meet the Last Earth Man™!” He wore a cheap silver space suit (stolen from one of those aforementioned chat shows), his fish-bowl helmet was overturned next to the sign, a few space bucks at the bottom.

“Five space bucks for a holo-pic, seven for a signature,” he took a long drag on his cigarette. To a Human he would’ve looked like the Marlboro Man, but to Wallah he’d always just looked unwashed and annoyed.

The father shifted uncomfortably. “Just the holo-pic,” he muttered.

“Is it true you’re from Earth Mark I?” the boy asked, standing next to Sam as they both smiled for the holo-pic.

“That’s right, son,” Sam quit smiling as soon as the flash popped.

Dunk the bus-boy cleaned the table next to them as the father dropped five space coins in Sam’s helmet and returned to their table. “I didn't know there were two Earths,” Dunk said.

“Well,” Sam sucked on his cigarette. “After we nuked it to shit the first time the Milky Way Galactic Preservation Society raised enough money to rebuild her. They even revived 70 per cent of existing Earth species – including us Humans.”

“Then how come you’re the last?”

“To keep us apes from blowing ourselves up again the M.W.G.P.S. built a complex super computer into the planet’s core. It was so smart it could run simulations of our species’ future. It saw every possible outcome, whether the Humans were left to their own devices or guided by the super computer, it saw what would happen.”


“And,” Sam held up his empty coffee mug for Wallah to fill, “it realized the only way to stop us from blowing ourselves up was to do it for us. Earth Mark II exploded six minutes after becoming operational. Now there’s just a gift shop selling T-shirts.”

Submitted: February 16, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Guenevere Lee. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Serge Wlodarski

I agree with the supercomputer. Good story.

Tue, February 16th, 2021 12:56pm


lol Me too...

Thanks for reading!

Tue, February 16th, 2021 6:16am

Alf McGuire

This is great! I love in particular the subtle satire and irreverent tone; this has a wonderful style!

Fri, April 23rd, 2021 10:17am



Wed, May 5th, 2021 10:04am

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