People watched and waited and did all the things you’d expect: went to loved ones, went to church, went to the forest, went to the water’s edge. Headed to the grocery store because they thought there was no way the scientists were right and it would be a great time to beat the crowds. Cried. Queued up the same song again and again so it would be the last thing in their ears. Watered their plants in case something survived. Waited. Waited. Waited. Tried one last time to make some art that would endure. Mowed the grass. Finished that client project. Waited. Waited. Waited. Ignored the notification like they ignored all the notifications and continued doing the dishes. Set up one last family game night at the dining room table. Told their news-averse loved one. Didn’t tell their news-averse loved one. Waited. Waited. Waited. And hoped for one last second chance.
Rachel Abbey McCafferty keeps writing tiny little apocalypses. Wonder why. Her stories have been published in journals like Emerge Literary Journal, (mac)ro(mic) and formercactus, and she has a new chapbook, “The beginning the end the beginning the end the,” out now through Bottlecap Press. Find her at https://rachelabbeymccafferty.com.
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