The titanium warheads raining from the clouds like the falling stars foretold in revelations unleashed a global inferno. The flaming horizons billowed a thick choking smog that consumed the sky. The torments brought by the Promethean fires were a final punishment for the last kingdoms on earth that thought the substance of gods was malleable in their hands. President Blaine had spent Armageddon in a subterranean bunker. Separated from the world by several meters of reinforced concrete isolated from everyone besides his top advisors. Information filtered in through the remnants of the digital network. They were like a severed head taking its final few blinking glances at the world. After 35 minutes, they were all still alive, so it seemed the secret was safe, and the commander in chief and his brain trust could get to work solving this latest crisis. Many on the staff relished the idea of going down in history as being part of the cabinet that unified the nation in history's darke
This is a collection of anecdotes from the fringes of reality, a tapestry stitched together from our dreams as well as our nightmares, from the fears that haunt the collective imagination. These are the symptoms of the sickness known as the human condition.