On the last day of earth, people rose early. There was so much work to be done. Phone calls were made. Important sentiments were expressed. A new record was set for daily kisses.
No one went into the office. All businesses were closed. All eyes and ears and arms stayed open.
Some remained inside, cleaning their homes, returning everything back to its proper place.
Some poured themselves into the streets, shouting and laughing and roaring with life.
Some stayed quiet, pensive, breathing in the end of sweetness.
Some held strangers.
Some held animals.
Some held objects.
Some held the hands of their loved ones, all day, waiting.
People relaxed into their grief and made room for acceptance. The birds sang wildly of every beautiful thing. The dogs howled madly at invisible moons. The grass continued to grow. It was the opposite of disappearing.
“Now” whispered the wind.
The earth trembled in anticipation. The trees waved goodbye. The oceans overflowed with sad and happy tears.
The waves crashed, echoing the sound of the world’s first expression.The earth circled back towards nothingness, like all living things.
People watched from windows, trapped inside the blaze of their own bodies. There were so few ways to speak. There was so much that needed to be said. The hours dwindled. The sun moved across the sky.
In the last moments of the last hour of the last day of earth, everyone gathered together to stand separately in a crowd. Every phone was silent. All electronics were turned off.
People spoke, but didn’t really speak.
People laughed, but didn’t really laugh.
People cried, but didn’t really cry.
People prayed, but didn’t really pray.
People clung to one another. They held millions of years in their arms. They remembered the world in reverse – day before day, moon before moon, all the way back to the beginning.