Friday Fictioneers: Church of Rave, Pray for Acid.

Happy Christmas Rochelle its becoming increasingly unbearable to watch the news now, the war in Gaza is heartbreaking with terrible weather coming now to compound the misery. I’m finding it very hard to be on the internet of late, steering away from awfulness, and its only the wonderful FF crew that keep me interested and this corner of the internet still sacred. 

So lets go, see what I can come out with in a kind of stream of 100 word consciousness..

On My Marks…

Get Set…

GO!!!

The tipping point tipped and the apocalypse happened. Society collapsed, all predictably predicted by predictor people. The Rich people survived for a little while until their homes were ransacked; their possessions scattered in the soil.

Pause… then fight… and naturally gravitate to separate factions; occasionally arguing, mostly bartering, but mostly they kept themselves to themselves; there was, after all:

“Enough to go round.”

Which was once said by a clever person somewhere.

I chose to stay in a church, we found a shit load of glow sticks, record decks and drugs.

Feel like I’m waiting for something different to happen now.

What a surprise, 100 words about some godawful apocalyptic world again! I blame the people in charge.

8 comments

  1. Your stream of consciousness took you for quite a ride here. Amazing. I like the ending. I hope the ‘something’ that happens doesn’t make matters worse for him.

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  2. Sounds about right about wrong(doers). (Note: wrongdoers are the ones that have raped the planet to death.) Why the hell not party. “Eat, drink, and be merry…”

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