Kiss Me When the Skies Become Orange

I sit down close to Martha on our porch, giving her a vacant wineglass. I pour the most costly Bordeaux we have into hers and mine. We're both in our best dresses. She has on a shining violet ball outfit, the chiffon making a poufy wreck around her legs. I'm wearing my best gold fold over dress. We don't mess with shoes. How's a skeleton going to manage shoes?

"In the event that we were brilliant, we'd be rushing to the closest cavern." Martha remarks, tasting the wine, gesturing favorably.

"And afterward what? Being completely protected from the blastwave, yet not from the bears who live inside. In any event, the atomic fire will be faster." I tell her mournfully.

"Heard Charlotte was putting a lot of Valium the supper she's making this evening. Rib-eye steak with coated carrots."

"How would you stuff Valium into a steak and a few carrots?"

"You don't actually. She's placing in the desert. Monstrous chocolate cake. That calorie-counting bitch will most likely still not eat any."

I look at my first love. We had forty great years together before the world went to damnation. Our cooperative just is familiar with it since we blocked radio transmissions from the Russians. It's anything but an issue of dangers, it's a conclusive response of commitments. They wouldn't be thoughtful failures of this conflict. Thus, after their acquiescence, we've been all working under the assumption that the world is soon to end. Furthermore, by the encoded signs of Russian armadas and airplane, they're presently entering American airspace and domain.

I turn on my music player, hearing the initial melody of "As the World Collapses." It's a front of a cover from a long time back and it appears to be proper.

"Go along with me for this last dance?" I ask her, standing up.

She gives me a grin and grasps my hand. We hold each other close, influencing side to side in a similarity to a sluggish dance.

"My feet are hurting...

What's more, your back is really drained...

Furthermore, we've two or three containers, angel,

What's more, put our pain away.

The papers say it's Armageddon...

The button has been squeezed...

We will nuke each other up, young men,

Until old Satan stands dazzled."

"Satan doesn't have anything on the dangerous situations in power." Martha says. "Truly, this is a leniency killing."

"Some will make due. You simply know it." I tell her with conviction. "We're a difficult plague to snuff out."

"Ever the skeptic. We dealt with a record of 200,000 years. We sent individuals to space."

"Indeed, space travel. Dramatically more significant than taking care of starving countries." I kill back amusingly.

"Jeez, I certainly expect you're not this negative in eternity." Martha answers.

"Goodness, you actually put stock in that, isn't that right?" I ask suspiciously.

"It's more similar to an expectation." she says insightfully.

Her green eyes get the porchlight glimmer, loading up with tears.

"I need one more lifetime with you." she demands, our temples contacting. "I need everlastingly with you. Two crotchety old women on a patio in our delicacy."

She sniffs, her tears streaming down her cheeks, taking the blush with them.

"Goodness, young lady, it's you that I lie with...

As the nuclear bomb secures...

Goodness, it's you I sit in front of the television with...

As the world, as the world caverns in..."

"Perhaps we'll be reborn..." Martha proposes. "Perhaps we're simply spirits who go through bodies and need to get new ones. Perhaps we can be naturally introduced to a reality where harmony is reachable."

The air alarms begin blasting.

"Hour's up..." I say through tears.

"Kiss me into the following life. I love you, Jessie." she cries.

"I love you, as well. Continuously."

As the mushroom cloud climbs and the blinding orange light fills the sky, we kiss each other. We maintain that adoration should be the last thing we feel. Allow our unresolved issues future survivors that we decided not to pass on terrified and alone.