Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Plan B














He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the sun. The rain had been falling steadily for days and days, but even when it stopped, the world was a dim gray. When was the last time he had looked up and felt the warmth of sunshine on his face? Days? Weeks? Months?

Officially, the rain started seven weeks ago. It started out gradually with light, scattered showers on one overcast day after another. The second week the showers grew stronger and lasted longer. Eventually the flooding began. By the third week, there was hail, horrible scary lightning storms, and more rain.

The fourth week brought lighter rain, no hail, and no lightning. It was as if we were in the eye of a storm and sure enough, the last three weeks were a repeat of the first.

People argued over what to do. Some wanted to move to Mexico. It was said that the rain had stopped there, in some parts. He knew better. He was in the travel industry and had contacts all over the world. It was raining all over the world, even in deserts. No one could explain it, least of all the weather men.

From the bedroom in his rented beach house he had a magnificent view of the ocean. Of course it would’ve been nice to witness a sunrise or sunset over the ocean, but it had been overcast since he moved in. The rain had started his moving truck pulled up to the house and had rarely stopped since.

Work was on hold, he didn’t have anywhere to travel to and nothing to write about but the damn rain and he had beaten that horse to death. He really didn’t do much day to day. He woke randomly, dressed occasionally and stared out the window incessantly. Every day was the same.

After two months o overcast skies and almost constant rain, he decided to make a move. He just couldn’t live like this. He was a shell of his former self, a semi-conscious zombie watching the world with blissful apathy. He wondered how many people out there killed themselves rather than face the unknown. He, for one, was more afraid of the known without end. The thought of everything the same, just as it was, forever, was a terrifying thought and one he would do almost anything to avoid.

1 comment:

  1. this is the beginning of story i wrote a couple of years ago. i wonder how mankind might end. a watery grave would be one of the worst ways to go.

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