Love You Till The End

NATURE SUBMISSION:

I’d never seen a more glorious sunset, even after a tornado. Half the sky was a golden yellow and the clouds above the sun were skeins of vermilion fire. Even the orange flames on the horizon dulled in comparison. Dust in the air; much of it probably radioactive.

We had come out of the root cellar, its door fortunately hidden by an overgrown raspberry patch, where we’d hidden from marauding mobs that had fled the cities, and hidden again when the pursuing troops began shelling. Our house and outbuildings were charred skeletons, the animals gone. We were still holding hands.

From Guest Contributor F. J. Bergmann

Mathematical Calamity

Calamity followed him everywhere. His primary school was destroyed in a tornado. His middle school suffered an earthquake. His high school burned down in an electrical fire.

As the catastrophes mounted, journalists and theologians began looking at the pattern and noticed him at its center. They speculated he was a malevolent hell-spawn.

It wasn't until his death at the age of one hundred and seven, a four-time widower and the survivor of several plane crashes, two world wars, and the nuclear holocaust, that a mathematician finally made the proper assessment.

Ralph Warner was officially the luckiest man to ever live.