Member-only story
The Apocalypse Will See You Now
Thank you for waiting.
Oh, you’re here to get out of the fire and brimstone? Come in, come in. Take a seat.
I promise we don’t bite. The world does enough of that, don’t you think?
Here’s some water. I promise it’s not toxic. We have a well in the back that hasn’t been tampered with yet.
You look like you’ve been through the wringer. So many bruises, so many scars. You obviously have a story to tell. I can see it in your eyes.
It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like sharing yet. This is a safe place.
Did you have to leave someone behind?
Your silence tells me a lot too, you know.
We’ve all lost someone. We had no family left, so we started to build our own. We’re not happy — we’ll probably never be that way again — but we’re still surviving each and every day.
You can too. Your sorrow may be there in your gaze, but there’s fire too. This doesn’t have to be an ending.
I know it sounds trite. But it’s true.
Where are the children, you ask? There are none. They succumbed first. And their parents — well, there’s a reason there are so few of us.
