All the characters in this story, except the Summerhillians, are imaginary and have no relations to any living person.
This present story arose out of a Sunday-night conversation.
"I've got no idea for a story to-night", I said. "My imagination has run dry".
"Can't you tell us another story about Pyecraft the millionaire, like you did in A Dominie's Five?" asked Betty.
"I've got an idea", said Michael. "Let us be the last people alive. Everybody dies except ourselves."
"And we live among a lot of rotting corpses", said David scornfully; "no thanks."
"We could bury them", suggested Jean.
"It would take a bit of collecting", I remarked, "to get rid of forty-two million dead British."
"Then we simply couldn't be the last people alive", she said. "I'd hate gathering corpses."
I suddenly had an idea.
"We don't need to have corpses", I said. "I'll tell you the story of The Last Man Alive."
On to Chapter 1
Introduction to 'The Last Man Alive' by A. S. Neill.
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