Written Years Ago, Discovered this Afternoon, Posted Unrevised

There's something special about the notepad.
There's no tabs to get lost in, no toolbars or margins to distract you. There's just you and the page.
You and your words.

Everything extraneous and ornamental is gone. True art of words needs nothing but words.

An airplane coasts lethargically down the runway. With lights flashing, 2 fire trucks, an ambulance and a miscellaneous airport authority truck follow. They too are in no rush. The parade drags by with seemingly no purpose but parading.

Flashing lights usually fly. Emergency response vehicles never waste time. With sirens blaring and horns blowing, time hardly passes as they speed by to their destination.

On the runway, the parade continues in its infinite loop. As time lulls by, the truck third in line gets neither closer to nor further from the truck in front of it. The plane is oblivious to the goslings behind it.

Everything goes easterly. There must be something horrid to the west. Maybe there's an inextinguishable fire advancing eternally eastward. Like woodland creatures, vans and trucks and people casually migrate away from the horror. Fires can't run. The best defense is to keep moving. Never stop.

Everything will stay safe as long as you just keep going.

The star alliance remains defiant. Facing west unmoving, the star alliance conveys an uncommon strength. Or perhaps stupidity. It's unfortunate something so noble will be consumed by something so sterile.

The parade has lost it's plane but has still doubled in size. Six yellow fire trucks, an ambulance and one black anonymous van with lights flashinghead west with a clear purpose. As soon as they are out of sight, they return heading east with the miscellaneous anonymous van in the lead. The Fire must have been too much to handle.

"Grace has another hour." The ambivalence of everything is excruciating. With destruction precariously looming, no one cares whether they're consumed or spared.

The skyline begins to move. Above the treeline cranes and towering structures drift easterly. It must be a great Fire indeed.

They say the end of the world will come with a bang. They also say the world will end with nothing but a whimper.

On the morning of the end of the world, the trashman will still come. Professionals will pack their briefcases and drink their morning coffee. Trains will load and depart on time with their regular schedules; airports will fill and empty and fill again as people try to get out of here by making
here somewhere else.

The end of the world will come and every one will be so busy drifting east they won't even notice.

There will be the few who race west to fight. They can't stop the end of the world, but their end will come trying to extinguish the inextinguishable.

Only the star alliance will stand fast, gazing westerly, embracing the approaching Inevitable in its last moments of strength and nobility.

Because I'm 12 and Found This Funny (And Have too Much Time at Work)

No thawing needed!

Because I Have Too Much Free Time At Work

I hope you remember/like all this, Sterb.

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