Stray Humans
Shockingly, I was placed on the ground outside. Outside! This had never happened before. My fear washed away and I was overwhelmed by the feel of grass, the way the light touched my skin. I stretched out into the dirt, face down, and breathed as though I’d never breathed before.
The Last Generation
I don’t want this. I’m too afraid. I don’t think this is the answer for the human race. I don’t want us all to suffer and die, but it is our fault we live in a destroyed world.
The End of the World Is Fictional… For Now
Post-apocalyptic fiction is one of my not-so-guilty pleasures. I recently read Year One by Nora Roberts. The story really jives with my dystopian-loving heart. Most of us have sat in our safe little societies and daydreamt about what our world would be like if it all came unglued. It’s a casual study of humanity under the ultimate duress. What would we really do if the world were ending?
If the Royal Family has enough sense in their inbred brains to support the arrest and subsequent punishment of the Andrew Formerly Known as Prince, then American leaders ought to have equal sense to investigate and punish the other Epstein-related offenders. Or, at the very least, admit that American Power is too insulated for true justice to ever have a chance at prevailing and own up to being a criminal enterprise. Something far worse than being inbred. (Though, probably not as bad as being married to Meghan Markle.)