The world hath ended.

  I stared at the sky, watching the world alight with flame. The first thing I could think of was how lucky I was to not be in the fire. The second thing my calm mind came to notice was that panic would take over in the cities. I lived on the edges of a small suburban town, sixty minutes out, but I was far from home. About at the same time when the world started to burn behind me, my car stopped. I needed water to make the trek home. I needed to think whether or not I'd want to go home. I needed to think, but the gripping calm in my mind told me I was freezing up. I could think all I wanted, but the shock of my reality being distorted wouldn't make me move. Eventually, standing here, I'd be caught up in the storm. Some vagabond bastard would take me out, bend my dead carcass over, and fuck me sideways and back. I was petrified, but that fear eventually melted in the face of the inferno of hell. After all, a slothful bastard like me doesn't deserve heaven. Hell, I'd imagine if there was a heaven it'd be over flowing with the good people right about now. You know, so sayeth the Bible and all.

  Assessing myself, the first thing I noticed after coming out of shock were my hands. I gently needed them together, thinking long and hard about what I should really be observing. My heart felt like an engine going full revolutions. I needed to sit. Breathing became tedious. My labored breath caused me to see black. I couldn't afford to lose consciousness, but something inside of me wanted to give up. A faint ripple from the flaming mass began to extend outwards.

  Fuck.

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  That's a fucking shock wave, isn't it? I should've known it'd end like this. Goddamn nuclear weapons, goddamn racists, goddamn fascists, goddamn slovenly people like me, goddamn everyone. I screamed curses to the top of my lungs.

  Strangely enough, my shaking subsided enough for me to notice I was shaking. After the shaking was gone, my breathing became regular. Looking back, I could still see the ripple knocking over trees in the distance, setting them on fire also, like the breath of God. I looked deeply at it, exhaling slowly, before picking myself off the ground. I thought to myself, "Damned if I'll die like that bitch as a pillar of salt facing death. I'm a coward through and through."

  Resigning myself to fate, I turned around. As a stinging sensation arose from my back, the beating of my heart stopped in my chest from its slowed point. I might've had a heart attack. To my limited interest, I know I should be in pain. I don't feel anything now.

  I just see into the distant horizon with an ever increasing filter. A filter of pure red creeping up to the sides of me. Slowly enveloping me in warmth. At one point I feel I stop thinking, but I am. I remember that I am, and I was looking. Looking at my hands.

  It feels like hours have past. Then days. Years. Decades. Time seemed to flow endlessly around me. I look at my hands, but I can't look at them. And yet, I still see them. I look at my hands, but I can look at them. But I can't see them. I look at my, but I can't see. I look, but I can't. I look...

  Eye. I.

  Can’t.

  Be.