‘Did you ever think that maybe the reason you always feel so anxiously close to death, to the end of the world, is because it is already here?’
She turned her head away, afraid of what her future children would think of the wrinkles forming on her forehead.
The sounds of the apocalypse outside threatened to break her fuzzy reverie, demanded uselessly that she turn her attention to things she could not change.
The TV hissed static white noise of election results in her ears as she thought about the world that was, that she heard of once but that she never saw for herself.
The world is ending, she noticed, and she wanted to fight now.