apocalyptic love apology
You can’t see the font this is written in. It’s been filtered half a dozen times. Been sent to satellite and back again. Transmitted. Coded. Encrypted. Decrypted. Message Acknowledged, Over and Out.
But you’ve never been here, or seen the wasteland around me. For all I know, you’re sitting in a Starbucks or grocery store, or someplace or another. And when you get this message, you’re going to think it’s fiction, but it’s not.
I am writing this from the End of the World.
Fuck, I can’t believe I wrote that sentence.
The END of the WORLD.
Let’s get this straight. Time Travel is not possible. It is a fictional device. You can’t jump forward or backward in time, no matter what the preacher says.
Oh yeah, the preacher. Guess I’d better get to him if any of this is gonna make any sense.
OK- HERE GOES:
I’m writing to you as the bombs are about to fall. You know about bombs, right? Turns out anyone can make one, and the next thing you know, a little bang turned into a big bang.
Story of the Universe.
In any case, the REALLY BIG bombs are about to fall. I don’t know how big bombs are in your time, but try and imagine the biggest bomb you’ve ever seen and triple that. Now multiply that by ten. They’re big fucking bombs.
I estimate that I have less than three minutes. I just need to get through to someone in yourt time. I just wanted to say that we’re sorry. We’re so sorry aobhut it all. We didn’t mw3ean to . Wewl gl.........rew