I was the last person on Earth, and I kept a schedule

I woke up in an empty control tower, the radio crackling with static that sounded like birds. No planes, no calls, just the hum of the old radar screen — still spinning, still showing ghosts. I checked my watch: 07:42. I made coffee, even though there was no one to serve it. Then I started filing flight plans for routes that don’t exist. Not because I believed they’d fly, but because the rhythm of it — the structure — felt like breathing.