by Chad Cowgill

Created on: November 01, 2009

The world lay in ruins. It was a comedy of errors. No one knows who started firing and no one knows who finished. No one knows who shot who, in any other case it would have been funny, but there was no one to laugh at your jokes for miles around. One man I happened to pass said that, we have found a cure for world hunger! he spoke triumphantly, you kill everyone and there are no empty stomachs to feed. I was hungry and I asked him if he could spare me any food. He said no. Soon, when I starve to death, he will be right.

I walked for quite some days, many days at least, a couple weeks perhaps, it is hard to tell, the sun doesn't come out much anymore. Surprisingly there are a few working vehicles left, but there are no roads on which to drive. I finally found myself at a farm in Wyoming, or what was once Wyoming. Inside the barn there, I discovered an older Saturn in perfect condition. I went into the house and found the family. They were eating their Last Supper. What I found explained in precise detail what took place in this house. The events of their past played in my memory as if I had been there.

The mother had prepared spaghetti, a huge plate full for supper tonight. She called to her family. Her two daughters came running, one from the upstairs bedroom and one from the TV room. The mother walked outside and shouted into the fields. Her husband drove the tractor over and the teenage son emerged from behind the huge stalks of corn. They sat in their usual spots around the table, said grace, and thanked the Lord for their lives remaining intact in a world gone insane and chaotic. They prayed for the guidance of the troops and leadership and for peace to come again, it had been so long since there had been peace. In unison they all said, Amen, the youngest speaking the loudest. They enjoyed their spaghetti.

Halfway through their meal, there came a knock at the door. The family stared at each other in horror, afraid of whom it might be. Everyday we live in terror of the knock at the door. After an enormously long pause, the husband spoke up, who is it? The knocking only came louder only to be answered with silence. Suddenly the hinges flew off the door and the army burst forth into the kitchen. Whose army, no one knows, maybe even our own. I cannot even remember what country I represent anymore; not that it matters anyway.

The soldiers shot the father as he moved to protect his family. The others ran into the next room, the mother getting shot in the back.

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