Apocalyptic Thought

Photo by  Jeremy Beadle  on  Unsplash “You there?” “Yeah, I’m here.” It takes a long time for him to get the phone in his hand. That’s mostly because of the concussion, and he feels a bit weak. A beating always wore him out. “Good. We got him.” He was excited to deliver the news. Clients happy, he’s happy, but he has to figure out a quick story to give to his wife. She hasn’t seen him like this in a long while. She always gets queasy at the sight of blood.   That’s the only thing that surprised him; he wasn’t expected so much blood. He can probably get it cleaned up well before she gets home, but it is disappointing. It does suck getting old. # “You’re so funny.” Chuck doesn’t know how he got here. He’s getting coffee with a beautiful woman, 10 years his senior, who’s engaged with him. She knows so little, so it’s not like she’s in it for the money. Besides, dressed in cheap clothes he ordered online, no jewelry, and nothing in...

Photo by  Clem Onojeghuo  on  Unsplash “Adam has been very good to me.” The room continues to watch. Chris isn’t good at this kind of thing, and the eyes make him nervous. The eyes in the front row are unfamiliar, which does help out. People on Adam’s side of the wedding are scattered through the reception hall. Every person he recognizes is a bump on the path of a good speech delivery. Some of the faces they made signal like they’re waiting for a typical, terrible, best man speech. That was the speech he wrote on a napkin at the rehearsal dinner. They were giving him the option to talk though it, but he refused. He didn’t need to make himself sick two days in a row. Even that crowd, immediate friends and family, made him dry heave a bit. Brenda looked so beautiful, and Adam is so happy. It makes me think why I’m here. “I don’t deserve a friend like him.” Chris hears a sigh in the back. “I’m sorry, I’m not that good at this.” “This is…more emotiona...

“Aw! It’s so adorable!” He moves to slowly, calculating each step, unsure if the next is going to send him tumbling to the ground. Everything looks untrustworthy, glancing from the ground to his left, back to the ground, this time to the right. “What’s it looking for?” She knew the answer, but she wanted her boyfriend to know it too. Sometimes, she wondered if he really is curious, or just liked to state the obvious, entertaining some imaginary audience that follows him wherever he goes. Maybe they were clapping now, laughing on cue, herding the sheep.   Sometimes, she wishes his crowd would just boo him, just once. The mother bear meanders on the scene. “That a big one.” He states, obviously. The mother ensures her cub that yes, she’s indeed here, watching him, and finally, he attempts to run. The first run turns into a stumble, and he rolls to his belly. The mother nudges him with her snout, and the cub tries again, this time, succeeding as he spring...