The End

The world looks different now - duller. Like one of those old world photos, the western style ones you’d get taken at a theme park and then would put in a draw for years to grow dusty as forget about it. That same coating of dust is everywhere, it saturates the surfaces of our town, thick and powdery, footprints cut through it and it almost makes me laugh. It reminds me of the first snow of the year when everyone would race outside to their gardens to leave defined footprints. Snow doesn’t fall these days. These days the world only has one setting; hot.

On 11th August 2031 the International Space Station first spotted the meteor storm making its way towards Earth. They estimated that it would hit us within a week. They couldn’t determine where, from the distance it looked too large. The leaders of the world were called to decide how to deal with the situation. Apparently there were too many too deal with. And that? Well apparently, that was that.

On 12th August 2031 the story was leaked to the press. Half believed it and began to prepare for the end and the rest? They laughed and declared it scaremongering, a tactic to control the population. Social media went wild, arguments from all angles, protests were formed outside city halls and anti protesters came to protest the protests. It was confirmed to be true by the 10pm news.

On 13th August 2031 the richest people in the world took their families and left on shuttles to the Moon Landing Hotel. They just left. Government officials, monarchy, the heads of banks... just gone. All across the world if you could pay the price you were free. Well... as free as you could be with no replenishing resources on the moon.

On 14th August 2031 panic set in. Shops were looted, banks were closed and money could no longer be accessed, people turned violent. And the pubs? They were full, they heaved to the point that people couldn’t breathe; but the beer, it flowed.

On 15th August 2031, we reflected. We gathered family members close and we sat and we talked. We talked about our favourite memories, and our hopes, and our wishes and our dreams. Some of us discussed our grievances, our fears, our regrets and our failures. We reunited with each other over our fate, as the meteors grow ever closer.

On 16th August 2031 we waited. And waited and waited. We waited to find out that the whole situation was a joke. A huge world wide practical joke. Hahaha. You’re so funny... except we waited and waited and waited. But no one came.

On 17th August 2031 we awoke to a red sky. Red sky in the morning, shepherds warning. By lunchtime it had grown uncomfortably warm. The summer was already hotter than usual with temperatures reaching 31C. We had doors open and curtains drawn, fridge doors spread wide. By dinner time the stars seemed to be getting closer. By bedtime we realised they weren’t stars.

Today on 18th August 2031, the meteors are visible, even to the naked eye. Regardless of night or day we watch them streaking through the sky like fireworks, they surround us, being pulled into our atmosphere. We stand together on the streets of Birmingham, what seems like the whole city, as the world burns hotter, and we foresee the end to our world. We see on the big screen as the first meteor hits Russia, not Australia or Asia. Then the Earth is peppered with the strike, it shakes and cracks, buildings fall on the opposite side of the town. We don’t run, we don’t scream. We are resigned.

This is the end as we know it

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