The Apocalypse

What would you do if life was no longer to taken for granted, but something you had to earn. How would you react if your whole world changed, your loved ones died and you had to learn how to live all over again. This is a story about a group of people, doing their best to survive in a world which has taken everything away from them.

First draft of my apocalypse novella / short story. Temporarily named "The Apocalypse". Copyright on the image, taken by me. A larger version can be found at


1. Prologue


When you go about being an outsider for most of your young life, you get good at observing people, noticing the little things that others might miss. You begin to more easily see when people are lying, or when they're pretending to be something they’re not. You see how people rely on schedules and routine to make it through the day. Maybe you even notice that you have made it a routine yourself to sit on the same café, drinking the same café latte every lunch break while you watch people as they try to get from one place to another. You start to recognize different people, the skinny man with the brown suit, the big lady that always looks like she’s going to twist her ankles on her way too high heels. You notice the people who seemingly are in a constant rush and those who take so much time that you almost think they’re going to set camp right then and there. The ones that seem to always manage to crash into someone else, and those who can read a book, listen to music and text all while seamlessly navigating through the mass of commuters.

Then you start to wonder, if there is someone who sits on a café like you, observing you as you observe others. Wondering why you choose to do the same thing every day, why it fascinates you so. Maybe even admiring you. Your thoughts begin to wander; your eyes begin to flicker, looking for your admirer, fueling your imagination. You imagine him looking at you, coming over to you and asking you for your number. You wish for it to be true so bad that you almost convince yourself that it is. But as you look around the room, no one meets your gaze. Instead you sit there, playing the scenario over and over in your head, while your coffee slowly gets colder.

All the while, you start to miss the small things that you would have otherwise have seen. The doors to the mall closing, security telling people that it is an electrical problem and that the mall will be closed for the remainder of the day. The police helicopter hovering over the glass-ceiling. The white medical tent being set up behind the mall, barely visible behind the large pine trees. The police cars parked in the parking lot, and the police chief wandering nervously from one the end of the lot to the other while constantly on the phone. No, you notice none of these things, and when you finally notice that your coffee has gotten to the point where finishing it is no longer an option, you pick up your bag and carry on with your day just as you would every other day. 

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