The End of Days
A bit of prophesy in exactly 50 words
We stand at the edge of the continent, waiting for death to arrive from across the Pacific. There’s no escaping it.
We haven’t spoken to each other all day. What’s there to say? In the end, we just couldn’t stop it.
Now we only cling to each other and wait.
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So many possibilities of what that impending doom might be. Tidal wave, nuclear war, a mad President, disease, age, flesh-eating goats… Hmmm.
Together is good. ...sounds like going home )))) I'm bringing my cat too.