(Previously, a man found solace from his dead wife. Today, Cora kind of regrets not getting her project sent off in time, but the coffee’s good.)
Today’s gratuitous photo is a weird tree. Because sometimes trees can be weird.)
Cora Darling heard it on the radio. She wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not. She turned on the TV to see if its news agreed with the radio’s news. The screen scratched out static on every channel. She went to her home office and turned on her computer to see if the internet agreed with the radio. She frowned at the white screen with the block letters: You are not connected to the internet. She went back to the kitchen and sat at the table where steam still wavered over the top of her coffee cup. She picked it up and sipped. She had an assignment to deliver to a client in two hours. She could have done that two hours earlier but it was so beautiful out that she spent those two hours on the back deck admiring her view of the city in the distance, the light cloud of smog surrounding it, the glints and glitters from cars and buses and trucks streaming like metal water through the city streets and turnpikes.
And then it was time to get back to work. But first a fresh coffee made from the imported beans she’d bought online and had just arrived that morning.
She wasn’t even sure why she’d turned on the radio. It was just there, on the table, facing her, unused for almost a year. She turned the dial and the radio face lit up and the news channel blared: We’re getting reports of explosions in…
And then static. Most of the stations were static. Others emitted confused news reports. No one seemed to know what was going on. Two DJs joked about a weekend fishing trip one of them had “survived.” One channel played classical music. Cora thought that it sounded like Mozart. She left the radio on that station for now.
She’d had a feeling when she woke up this morning. She wasn’t sure what the feeling was, but she remembered it being nothing good, like biting into a genetically modified peach and feeling the pit shattering around your teeth. Her back was to the glass doors leading out to the deck. She didn’t have to look to see it. The wall in front of her suddenly burst into brilliant light. I should have finished it and sent it off before taking a break. The coffee cup was to her mouth. And this is really great coffee. The light from behind her was so bright it seemed to burn out everything in its path with sheer brilliance alone, and not just a wave of heat and angry energy devouring everything in its path, including Cora, who managed to get one more sip of coffee before she evaporated along with the coffee and her schedule.
For more crazy writing by Biff Mitchel, visit Amazon.