Post Apocalypse – Day 1

Armageddon wasn't too bad. I think only about half the laws of physics were erased, maybe even less. A light fire drizzle started around 8am, and we saw our first meteor swarm by 10. Two more swarms before 2, but they had the convenient side effect of scaring off the herd of raptors on the front lawn. The long driveway full of pothole-puddles seems to have stumped the zombies so far, so that's good.

Scout and I went on a dogging mission – no wait. Sorry. I think I've been holding myself together fairly well, but I have noticed the occasional hiccup in my brainwaves. Where was I? Ah yes. Dog and I went on a scouting mission. It seems the neighbors chose to ignore our advice on heat-resistant paneling. Only one other house still stands, and go figure, it's that one. The rest burned in the early morning rain of fire. (Or firain, as we've decided to call it.) Dog and I decided to add a little extra fire to the front gate. No sense encouraging visitors until we're sure we know what to do with them.

No sign of Kitty yet, but I found Boyfriend passed out in one of the smaller bunkers. Clearly we'll need to improve our ventilation system. Oddly enough his coal-powered refrigeration is working just fine. Maybe the steampunks weren't full of shit after all. Once Boyfriend was feeling better, we decided to celebrate our continued existence by having the most kick-ass cookout ever. That's right. Toasting marshmallows by the light of a burning suburb. I guess all that's left for today is...... beginning the repopulation of earth. See? Even the end of the world has its perks.

Just don't ever call me a poet

Downward

and as such falling

            so much implied

words I don't want to say

            MY NAME

                           4            1

numbers, letters, everything blurs

            shifting shapes, all shit-faced from

                        shooting sherry shots

                                    shoot

You don't get to come here anymore

            We no longer welcome your agony

                        Keep your pain

                                    to yourself

Things that go bump in the night...

My lamp – Kitty knocked it over while trying to catch the moths it attracts. She does not realize that no matter how well she can climb the screen, she's not going to be able to catch bugs through the window. She is inside and they out, and it will stay that way until such time when I can no longer stand her piteous mrows. Then – alas, poor winged soul, you have been chosen as tonight's plaything and eventual feast. Please, come into the light and warmth... oh, and Kitty's belly.

The dinosaur (heater) – though really it's more of a “whump,” followed by a huge dinosaur sigh. A sigh that says “Yes, alright, I'm awake. And now I will heat your house.” I think it's an old dinosaur, arthritic and probably with dentures. But day after day it keeps on. With heaving, wheezing breaths, the ancient creature banishes chill and ill will from our home.

Nothing – absolutely nothing. No, really, there's nothing there. But that doesn't stop the dogs from barking at it.

The Tall One – Mr. Jameson “Jay” (or just J) McF. He's had some impressive growth spurts, and with them the sudden surprise at the length of his limbs. And let's not get started on his appetite! He doesn't thump and bump as much as some, but he has not yet perfected his ninja-ness, so it's always apparent when he's at last decided to get ready for bed. Not that I can blame him. I remember the drawers he's opening and the doors he's closing. He lives in my old room now, and I can attest to the fact that the “bedtime” process is riddled with noisy booby-traps.

The clumsy one – that's me, by the way. I walk into doors, trip over animals, drop shoes and books and bottles of assorted scented products. Hands hit windows, elbows hit walls. And then finally – finally – I fall into bed.