The very first apocalypse I ever experienced began on a sunny Thursday at about two o’clock whilst I was out buying stamps. Gigantic, invisible monsters with gigantic, invisible granite teeth began silently eating all of the oxygen out of the air. There were roughly six hundred thousand and twenty three of them and they worked steadily throughout the afternoon so that by half past four there was hardly anything left to breathe. As I expired I remember being impressed by the monsters’ work ethic.
This was a bad one and quite unexpected. I had enjoyed a nice day out, fishing on the lake and had cooked my catch, roast octopus, along with some turnips. I ate, did the washing up and sat down to read my book. The weather took a turn for the worse at about eight o’clock and I closed the curtains, which were not much use in keeping out the waves of fire and storm that rolled up and over and over and over again until the whole world had been taken away and I looked out of the window to nothing.
I was entertaining at the time of this apocalypse so it was quite embarrassing for me. We hadn’t even eaten the casserole that I had spent all afternoon preparing when it arrived. Imagine allowing guests to perish with empty stomachs! As host I tried to keep everyone calm and tend to their needs but it was not easy as some of my guests were becoming quite manic. Eventually I suggested we all settled down to a nice game of cluedo, which seemed to do the trick. I was about to name Professor Plum, in the kitchen with the candlestick, as the perpetrator when he saved himself and brought the world crashing down.
Most apocalypses could learn from this one. It behaved impeccably, quietly nibbling away at the world, taking the most useless things first and leaving us plenty of time to come to terms with what was happening, say our goodbyes, etc. I took some good photographs. Would visit again.
Something fishy about this apocalypse. Whilst we were asleep something very strange happened and we all awoke underwater and had to desperately race towards the sea. Not all of us made it. The sea was now full of air and the land was covered in water, the whole world having been turned inside out by I-don’t-know-who. The fish seemed to be having fun in the new world and as we walked and breathed in the sea, hungry and confused, they began humaning with roasted joints of beef on string.