My sister, age 7, mutters from in the bathtub. How silly. The bathtub lay at the house center. Wow, she really crammed a lot of blankets in there. It looks comfy. The bathtub can probably float in water. The bathtub, from solid polyester, can withstand a beating from a collapsing house. What do I have? A toothbrush, and an old couch. It matters not. I hope she survives, and this tub tips the miracle out of destiny’s bucket. Though, she will die, but at least there is comfort. I head back to my couch.
We all eventually do fall asleep...
I am awake! Fuzzy haired goons sleep on the couch. It seems more stragglers have wandered in, looking for final comfort. A rage of wind, darkness, and downpour buffets the house. Are we being bombed? A howl swells. I wrack my mind to explain how another state could wield such fire power. Was my world view so ignorant to not foresee our doom? Is this an ancient alien attack? Of course not. Why would I even consider that? Everything quakes. Why do I dance around it? Can I not just admit it? It is obvious! This is wrath.
I gaze outside: dim spots of fire are the only light between the rain waves. The storm has excised the moon. An anxiety welled from my gut, waiting for the moment all realities of the end would manifest through our walls. How can the walls still stand? More explosions. And music.
A tune lurched from the wind.
Melody (quite a few octaves higher)
ECDE ABC GAFGFD
Where is my family?
The tune ushered in a sense of adventure. Is this the next step? My mortality terrifies me, and I fight to accept all death. This must happen. The tune is catchy! How ironic. We all swirl. Do I have faith? Please don’t test me.