The empty tram trundles along the deserted tracks, sticking rigidly to an irrelevant timetable.
At each stop, the doors open for their mandatory fifty-seven seconds then silently close. A mechanical voice announces the destination before wishing its alighting passengers a good day.
The driver, an automated robot, needs no breaks, nor works any shift pattern. He makes the same journey, from one end of the promenade to the other and back again, on the hour, every hour.
Had he been programmed to be more aware of his surroundings he would have noticed the human race had long ceased to exist.
Written by Mike Jackson
Mike Jackson lives in the UK and enjoys writing short tales, especially Drabbles. Some of his offerings can be found on his blog ‘Stories In Your Pocket’