The end came before any of us expected it. Over in the marketing department, they scrambled to produce a proper logo and theme song. They missed their deadline by only seconds. We cheered their perseverance and plucky spirit. The sky, in the meantime, managed only a lonely drawn out exhalation of breath. Where did all the people go? it asked. No one answered. We were all too busy seeing to our final wishes. The ground convulsed. We expected that and did not squawk or squabble. It would have been unseemly. We liked the bedtime stories. They soothed our weary spirits.
Mario who?I'm a novelist, poet, and short story writer living in the Pacific Northwest on Missoula Flood soil. I post my 100-word short shorts here on an intermittent basis.
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