They'll look back on us and say our greatest contribution was toilet paper.
They'll call us The Age of Oil, and say the internal combustion engine was the most destructive invention of all time.
They'll wonder why we went to the moon, came home, and never returned.
They'll marvel at our obsession with gunpowder.
They'll ridicule our notion of credit, and call us indentured servants to the financial engine.
Baffled, they will wrinkle their noses at our befuddlement of atomic energy, and call us monkey-minded scientists who had no clue what they had harnessed.
They'll call us disillusioned, mislead sheep, hypnotized by a media-entertainment engine that intruded every second of our waking lives.
They'll laugh at us. They will laugh and laugh, and when they finish laughing, they will pity us no less than we laugh and pity the caveman for his simple, hard-lived life, the life of an idiot who knew no better.
They will say we got what we deserved.
They'll read this post and say, That man Eric-something was a genius. Pity nobody remembered him.
What else will they say? Positive thoughts, maybe, such as They were really tall back then, before the Great Extinction?
Eric W. Trant is a published author of several short stories and the novel Out of the Great Black Nothing. He is currently represented by Debrin Case at Open Heart Publishing. See more of Eric's work here: Publications