Photo by Jenny Neyman, Redoubt Reporter
And then the world exploded.
The skies turned red, the Ten Plagues took turns playing out with comical predictability,
each dragging on
until the only relief was the onset of the seceding horror.
Every ocean became more inhabitable than the Dead Sea
and no staff could part those solid waters,
not this time.
Each singularly ludicrous and irrational mind lived the magnification of their own nightmare
There was no distinction.
It seemed that all one had to do
was linger on a possibility, a farcical and impossible miracle of misfortune
for an instant too long,
for the butterfly to land.
Reality could be molded without the addition of heat, just the slightest nudge to set it off.
The earth tilted on its axes so radically chairs became extinct,
and tables were only kept because people could hold them down while they stood up.
The zombies could finally retire and the curly, pink pigs’ tails once so common to birds grew
to bounce on the ever-shifting, bubbling ground as they soared.
Words retreated back into feelings
and excrement made the long sojourn back to its rightful owners.
Life was simpler back then.
No one noticed the apocalypse.