grace

Just woke up from the end of the world. It was interesting, and wasn't really the end... maybe just a new beginning. There were big black ashes in the sky from fires that fluttered around like paper confetti and the clouds were strange against the image. Although it was day, where there should have been a sun, the sky beyond the clouds was a night blanketed by stars. And those clouds up there were nameless colors, all with a silver lining gleaming bright behind them. There were things being shot at the world from above each with intention- like organic bombs, like Zeus throwing stones in a pond. They would only take out sections of buildings and things and they'd do it in patterns... but no one was panicked, or at least it didn't last long. I was at the store buying supplies; wine and lots of oranges. I was in a car with my brother and cousin driving to get into a hot air balloon or a zeppelin for evacuation or refuge, something to that affect, weather elevating above all the madness made a difference or not. Our conversation through it all grabbed my attention the most. Hard to explain correctly now... we spoke as if we were one person, with a collective understanding, with authority, humor, and weight, yet our words seemed to float and pop pretty like bubbles between us. Something happened and the world buckled and I woke up in the snow- the controlled chaos had stopped, the world was still- our car had crashed and we were covered in snow. San Francisco was covered in snow. California was. Maybe the world was. And there were two of everyone who survived. I stared back at my mirror and it told me to identify myself.... Then I fell out of sleep.