"You know, your breasts—"
"Can you guys just stop talking about my breasts already!?"
"What's… got you so riled up? Maybe let off some steam."
"5 people, dead!"
"People die every day, it's normal."
"They are not supposed to!"
Esme, Miss Pepondosovich, and Liza were once again outside waiting for customers to approach their restaurant. Liza, however, could not concentrate at all as the horrific news of 5 people passing reached their ears. She had really only moved on from the old man that she couldn't save, and now 5 more people are dead in the span of a month.
For hundreds of years, they forced—no. They voluntarily indoctrinated themselves into treasuring life, almost to the point of obsession.
"We're just watching ourselves dwindle, Miss Pepondosovich," Liza shook her head and sighed, "There's no one after us; this is it, we are the last of us. Soon, there wouldn't be any humans left."
