Having A Beer with Death

I was fired on Tuesday, Marsha left me on Wednesday, and the world ended on Thursday around seven-thirty-ish. It’s Monday now, had a few days for the apocalypse to finally sink in and now I’m utterly bored out of my wits. I can’t watch the TV, power’s been out since Friday morning, not that there was anything exciting on, all the stations were either playing late night infomercials, a news loop of the pope vanishing into a bolt of lightning, and JAG. I can’t get a proper rub-out, you know, the age of information and all its goodies tend to pamper a man. And with the power out, the beer’s already warm, so I can’t really get good and loaded while playing solitaire, now can I? I thought about driving up to the shore and watching the bits of the moon sparkle in the night sky or the first that, I’m assuming, is the burning wreckage of Canada, over Lake Erie; but traffic’s bumper to bumper with those giant insects the size of city buses crawling down Detroit Road. A whole lot of good being the last man on earth is, I’ll tell you, it’s actually pretty boring.

It’s been a while since a posted here, and it has been a pretty bumpy road. But writing, though changing here and there, hasn’t stopped.  Up in the short story section I have a new tale, called Having a Beer with Death.  I’ve also made it a PDF file so you can download it, for free, and read it later.


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