Fool's Apocalypse

The beginnings of our future misery

Maybe they were off by a few days? Maybe this terrifying asteroid was still on its way? But by now, what did it matter, everything had changed. Humanity, in its instinctual fear of death, ate itself - entrails and all.

You'd expect at this point, to see someone walk up onto a gigantic stage and announce to the audience, 'only joking!' For this must have been the biggest and best joke humanity had ever come up with... but no one was laughing - they'd either lost everything, become savaged, or found it quite tricky to laugh through a crushed jawbone - amongst other things.

So... now where do I make my appearance into this wonderful affair of harmony? Well, maybe I'll just tell you that - otherwise this would be a pretty short story.

I had the pleasure of watching this performance from my twenty-storey, apartment block, in a big city. Which city, you say? Doesn't matter now. A big one, you ask? Yeah, that one. I had some-kind-of job. A partner? I can't remember. I had a few friends over, those people who you used to laugh and play with. There was me... insert name here <______>, one friend called... shall we say, Quart... why not? Another called Sage, and a last one called Gen.

Sage was out and about, shopping around in the streets below, replenishing our food and fuel for the night. He'd lost out in a game of 'go get us stuff,' and his mission was our bellies and intoxication.

''What's taking him so long?'' Gen asked, skittishly looking out through the curtains.

''You know Sage. He's a bit fruity in the 'ead,'' burped Quart.

''Maybe.'' Gen didn't feel quite as laid back as Quart. ''But still, I think we made a bad call making him go out on his own like that.''

''How else are we to celebrate our 'New Year's Doom Party,' without food and booze?'' I said promptly.

''I think we should have at least all gone together.'' She carried on peering through the curtains.

''Too late now,'' Quart replied, sipping out the last few drops from his can.

Shaded figures walked below in the night streets, as Gen surveyed from up on top. A few peculiar placed streetlights did little to light a clear path for the revellers outside. The brightest light beamed out from a glass-walled supermarket.

''That might be him.'' Gen knocked her head against the glass. ''Could be?''

''Thank goodness for that,'' Quart said in a sarcastic tone.

The shaded figure in question walked past the supermarket doors, when a group of equally shaded figures sprang upon the man. One shoved him into the doorway, and another threw an object to accompany his sprawled-out body, lying in the entrance. Gen froze. The group leapt away as a shattering explosion shoved its flamey-head out of the shop front and into the night streets - lighting up the road as if it were day.

A small shard of glass cracked its way out from the window, which Gen was terrifyingly looking through; the sharp, pointy edge embedded itself, deep into Quart's cheek - this, however, would be the least of his concerns thus far, and of mine too.                                                                                  

That was the first time I'd ever be so close to the joke. It wasn't really funny anymore when it happened. At least for a short while. But it only got worse. I don't think I ever saw Sage after that night, but then again, I can't remember when I last met Gen or Quart - there's always a chance I might bump into them now, but would they remember me, and would I too, for that matter?

A scruffy bird hopped about outside, curiously avoiding the shattered glass laid about the cracked window frame. Her head twitched towards the direction of a fumbling bug; in no time at all, the poor little black grub was soon sliding down the tight tunnel of her feathered throat.