Not with a bang but a whimper

They say we haven’t long to live- They’re always saying we haven’t long to live. Seems like every couple of years we see some new Armageddon poised to take the Earth in its jaws and bite. So far we’re safe, or about as safe as humans can ever be. Of course, you never know. Maybe we’ll meet our end at the hands of meteors, or aliens, or zombies, or gods. Then again, its far more likely we’ll be the ones to destroy ourselves.

Won’t that be a fine way to go out- Bathed in the warm glow of a few million bombs, shells and bullets. We’ll be heard on Pluto, and when the powers that lurk the void finally arrive at our dusty hick-town of a planet, they’ll wish they saw the curtains fall. Oh, who am I kidding, It won’t be anywhere near as loud or exciting.

‘It’ has started already, and it’s going to be a dull one. We’ve forged ahead as we always have, belching smog, gnawing mountains, swarming the Earth with our bastard progeny, but now, after centuries of exploitation, it seems we’re nearing the climax. You and I have strolled by at just the right moment. We’ll bear witness to the glorious peak of everything that ever was- And the ensuing decline, I’m sure. The skies will choke and the oceans will rot, and all by our hands. And when the thunder of extinction has passed, the wasteland will creep through the places we loved with a skeletal grin.

To be honest, I’d much rather rough beasts and blood-dimmed tides.

Prompt: Prophecy

by Paul Inglis


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