Tsunami’s Last Kiss

“Hold my hand. It’s alright,” I told her, but I lied. It wasn’t alright. The huge ball of fire plummeting toward earth would kill us. All of us. We waited and watched with the rest of the city, heads turned upward to watch the sky fall. The newsman said it was falling right on us. People panicked when they heard. Some tried to flee the city, but got mired in the flow of traffic. Other people simply went insane and threw themselves from buildings, or in front of trains, or hung themselves, or overdosed, you get the picture. The rest of us just watched and waited.

“It’s alright,” I told her again and squeezed her clammy hand. But I lied. Heat scorched our skin as the flaming asteroid crashed into the ocean.

“It missed us!” somebody yelled with relief. “We’re going to be o.k.!”

The crowd cheered until we saw the tsunami lording over the highest skyscraper and rumbling like a thousand locomotives.

“It’s alright,” I told her and held her tight one last time. “We’ll be in heaven soon.” I kissed her deeply then wiped the tears from her beautiful green eyes.

The tsunami smashed into the downtown skyline and snapped skyscrapers like twigs. People screamed and broke away, futilely trying to escape. But not us. I kissed her instead. To feel that warmth one last time. To feel the connection that burns between two people. I kissed her and then we held hands. We watched as our world was submersed in water. We waited as mankind’s legacy was reclaimed by nature. We drowned and joined countless others resigned to nothing more than footnotes in a forgotten epoch of history.

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About Universal Shift

I am the Sonata Unusual. I coat myself with some obtuse angle too far below zero to become any warmer. I create motivation, activate schemas, moisten gardens with scents of natural honeydew. Construct this meaning, you sleepy flock. Silence your singing—despairing contortions out of tune. Shatter the brittle butterfly glass with your hideous wailing. I am born of my god’s imagination. When I die I shall meet him. For there are many things to discuss over tea…or scotch.

Posted on December 22, 2011, in Author, Fiction, writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. great timing for this post…..beautiful story of love….and very relevant to today.

  2. Personally, I would rather kiss the one I love than freak out and try to run. Great post.

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