The Apocalypse

Contributor: Samantha Seto

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Water brushed the current, greenery invaded my imagination, the sky had perfect clouds, soaring. Sunshine glazed overhead, pond water was murky, diluted filled with colorful fish and spiders. A white heron stood on drifting grass patches, explorers came to gaze down the water, looking for tadpoles. Quietness of pine trees and willows rustled in leaves, cold wind hit my skin. Shadows lined the dock, I could see my reflection in the water, traced the outlines, blueness in my eyes. Sunbathe burned, warmth to soul, frogs croaked, blowing bubbles in gentle blueness. Listening to wind chimes, wooden dock swiftly rocked back-and-forth, like a baby cradle.

The moon caved in. The earth grew dark and dirt flew everywhere. My first instinct: I thought it was a natural disaster. But then people started to disappear into thin air as their bodies evaporated. I ran to seek shelter. Soon enough, I found myself drifting away.

All I could hear was chaos. I reached into my pocket for an Advil but my bare skin had bloodstains. The world was crumbling before my eyes.

The dark cold wind outside almost whipped across my face and burned my eyes. I was crossing a gray-stoned bridge and the dark waters below became frightening. My hair grew dark and wet in the rain. My clothes sunk into my skin. I could barely see the direction the road was taking me.

Streaming white light burst in my eyes before I was gone. Spun out of control. Blackout.

The Mayan calendar never predicted this day.

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Samantha Seto is a writer. She has been published in various anthologies including Ceremony, Soul Fountain, Nostrovia Poetry, Coffee Table Poetry, The Screech Owl, and Black Magnolias Journal. Samantha studies creative writing. She is a third prize poet of the Whispering Prairie Press.
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