298. The radiation will kill you

“The radiation will kill you,” I tell her, but she doesn’t listen. She wants out. She’s tired of this life without sun. Without open space. Without joy.

It’s been five hundred and seven days since the event came without warning. Luckily we got underground in time. But we had no time to look back. No final glimpse of Earth as we knew it. That mushroom cloud and the fast approaching nuclear winds would be our last impression of home.

“You really want out, don’t you?”

 

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288. Inside the frame

Inside the frame a futuristic city was bursting with activity.

Children were playing hide and seek in vast green oases between glass skyscrapers while their parents chatted to friends and neighbours, clad in fluorescent avant-garde clothing. On the rolling meadows dogs ran with sticks, while cats tried to catch a fish jumping from one of the many tiny streams meandering through the city.

 

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224. Despite all she’d been through, her shoes were still shining

Despite all she’d been through, her shoes were still shining. Shops had shuttered, society had crumbled and humanity was down to a handful. Yet her black-laced shoes did not have a speck on them.

She rested her tired feet on the bus seat in front of her. Around her, silence reigned. The only audible sound was that of her shoes gently tapping the metal to the beat of the emergency sirens in her head.

 

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199. Once the sands

Once the sands had tickled these walls continually but that sensation too had long deserted the house.

First the humans had left, frantically stripping the building down to its bare essentials and taking with them the sounds that had filled the hallways with joyous life.

Then the clouds arrived, depriving the windows of the warm reflection of sunlight and casting gloomy eternal shadows on the crumbling walls.

The creeping sand had momentarily given new life to the house in the form of ever-changing dunes, guided by the unpredictable winds from the East. But they too disappeared in time, leaving behind a sandy tomb.

All that was left now was the taste of nuclear rain. It had eaten away most of the paint and would soon be feasting on the bricks, mortar and wood, until there was nothing left to devour.

Yet the front door still stood proudly askew, as though the house still fully expected a rosy future to come knocking.

As if impending death was but a pessimist mindset.

 

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134. The majority of the continent

The majority of the continent now lay behind them, seven months after they’d set out on their travels. Their voyage had brought them from sandy coastlines to treacherous jungles. From the rugged mountains that now watched them from a distance to the barren plain that separated them from their destination.

Hjalmar did not look forward to reaching the ocean. The voyage had made him weary, edgy and he was a cantankerous person at the best of times anyway. He would not remember the gorgeous landscapes or the strange fauna. He’d remember the hardships, the pain, the isolation.

If there was one thing he would recall fondly however, it would be his horse Predbjorn. His companionship had gotten Hjalmar though the worst patches of the voyage. Each time he had wanted to throw in the towel – and those had been numerous – Predbjorn had spurred him on with a friendly nod of the nose against his back or a well-time neigh. Hjalmar, who’d grown up on a vast farm, was as fond of Predbjorn as he had been of any animal he’d encountered in his lifetime.

Perhaps it was because they had suffered together. Weathered blizzards side by side. Cheated death when eye to eye with a poisonous snake. They had protected one another from peril without hesitation, without reservations. From the start they both knew they would have to be able to rely blindly on each other. They still did.

The refracted sunlight on the ocean waves was now greeting them. As they approached the waterline, the backlit silhouette of the woman with the check came into focus and Hjalmar begrudgingly got off his horse. He was about to commit the worst betrayal of his life.

Hjalmar would never forgive himself.

But the worst thing was that Predbjorn probably would.

 

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53. Rain swooped down on the festival like a biblical plague

Rain swooped down on the festival like a biblical plague. The sudden violent shower scattered the audience across the soggy terrain, looking for shelter under trees, tents and each other’s raincoats. Lightning haphazardly lit up their shivering faces. With each booming burst of thunder their heart skipped another beat, as they embraced their friends and kept a suspicious eye on the rapidly rising water on the meadow.

At the main stage the heavy metal band continued their set.

Here’s one from our first album, the lead singer growled.

It’s called Apocalypse.

 

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16. Cherry buds were blooming

Cherry buds were blooming but she wasn’t fooled. Winter was coming. She heard it in the whispers of the birds, she sensed it in the air.

Though everyone else was convinced spring had finally arrived, she expected hard times to follow. Cold, snowy days in June. Unforgiving blizzards in July. Eternal darkness after that.

The next day she was fired from her job as weatherwoman at the local TV-station.

 

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10. Snow wreaked havoc on morning traffic

Snow wreaked havoc on morning traffic. Amid the honking cars was Jerome’s Mini Cooper, inching on, one foot at a time. If this pace continued, he’d arrive at work just in time to hop back in his car and be homeward bound again.

The music on the radio was advancing at the same leisurely pace: some obnoxious song from a one hit wonder boy-band. He was just about to switch channels when the singer’s off-key high note was abruptly cut off by a news jingle. The first words of the presenter didn’t exactly spell good news.

“This is an emergency broadcast. Astronomers have discovered a meteor on a collision course for Earth. The rock will hit our planet in less than 24 hours, it has emerged. Details about the event are sketchy, but a NASA spokesman has confirmed that the meteor is a global killer. None will survive.”

You could actually hear the lump in the radio presenter’s throat.

“I suggest you contact your loved ones.”

And back up came the music, yet another inappropriately cheery pop song.

Jerome didn’t have a wife, a kid. Just some casual friends. And his family, well, the least said… The closest thing he had to a soul mate were his fellow commuters. In the car next to him, a girl was on her cell phone, tears running down her face. Another commuter ran franticly between the vehicles, moving one hell of a lot faster than any of the cars.

Jerome pushed the first number on his speed-dial.  It took seven rings for someone to answer, but eventually someone did. “I’m taking a sick day,” he said, casually.

He got out of his car and promptly gave the guy next to him the biggest hug he had ever given anyone in his entire life.

 

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