Kill The Meteor, $#%& The Meteor

East of the Mississippi, on the southside of Indianapolis, between four pink walls, under a down comforter, Robert and Sheila knew the end was coming.

It was ending that very night. Where one had been for a short while, the remainder of the time two found it awkward. Sheila and Robert had something, something some might call spark. Problem was they needed lightning to get through the moments between, power they didn’t have and couldn’t muster. Judging by the asteroid coming, they were never going to see that electric moment.

The tv told them to repent in moments of clarity between fields of blue. If they were ambitious enough to find the remote, they might find cable news still on the air. They warm in each other’s arm and completely sure in the knowledge that they weren’t built for each other. He had long gawky arms that dwarfed his already gawky body. She was short and stubby. Under the blankets, they sat still as the dead. Somehow, if one spoke The Sword of Damocles might fall just right then and kill them precious hours short of everyone else.

Somewhere within an astronomic unit of their apartment, the asteroid was hurdling straight for where the Earth wanted to be. People tried not to be scornful, but it’s hard to be polite when you have three weeks of news telling you how you’re all doomed. Most people just wanted cartoons. Instead, they got expose´s and countdown tickers. So, Sheila’s neighbor had an idea. On the roof, rifles were heard along side hoots and hollers. Downstairs, rhythmic pounding and slow jams were heard alongside hoots and hollers. The kill the meteor party and the $#%& the meteor party were actually somewhat symbiotic. As one left one, one joined the other passing guns and lubricants as appropriate.

It all seemed like great fun but somehow neither Sheila nor Robert could find themselves leaving. They watched the doomsaying for another hour and then they heard a loud and resounding boom. As they turned, they saw it: their electric moment. It was a transformer exploding, but they didn’t care.

And so they $#%&ed like rabbits, they $#%&ed ravenously and they $#%&ed lovingly until the end.


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