It's scary to think about.

That the world has already ended.

People are still laughing, and smiling, and living their lives.

Moving into quiet, empty houses.

Wearing jewelry that belonged to someone else's grandmother.

Discarding old rosaries.

It doesn't bother them that there's a void there.

It doesn't bother them that the crater sinks down, a mile deep.

Into a gaping, treacherous void, where all the little hands of dying children reach out.

They go on, laughing, and smiling, and living their lives.

And their gods block out the sun.

Return.