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sabotabbyI must be reading too many Left Behind reviews.
I had lived through the End Times and found myself in the Kingdom of Heaven. I was on a bullet train, riding high above lush, southern Ontario farmland. Most of the other passengers on the train were my kids. All but two were awed by the landscape and the fact that they were in heaven. One incredibly pedantic kid pointed out that this was not actually heaven, simply the Kingdom of Heaven that would last for a thousand years before the actual something something.
I felt sure that I was in the Left Behind universe, because the train ride never seemed to end. In a normal paradise, I thought, you would just decide to be somewhere and you would magically be there. There wouldn't be all of this obsessive interest in travel.
The two boys who weren't awed kept asking me questions. It started to rain, a sunshower. They asked me what a sunshower was called. I told them it was called a Fox's Wedding, and then admitted that I only knew that because of an Akira Kurosawa movie—then I realized that they had never heard of Akira Kurosawa. I looked out at the rain falling over the bright grass and could only be sad that they had experienced so little of the world, and that the bit they had experienced was mostly awful.
Then I was back in my childhood home, alone, but all of the pictures had been taken down from the wall.
I had lived through the End Times and found myself in the Kingdom of Heaven. I was on a bullet train, riding high above lush, southern Ontario farmland. Most of the other passengers on the train were my kids. All but two were awed by the landscape and the fact that they were in heaven. One incredibly pedantic kid pointed out that this was not actually heaven, simply the Kingdom of Heaven that would last for a thousand years before the actual something something.
I felt sure that I was in the Left Behind universe, because the train ride never seemed to end. In a normal paradise, I thought, you would just decide to be somewhere and you would magically be there. There wouldn't be all of this obsessive interest in travel.
The two boys who weren't awed kept asking me questions. It started to rain, a sunshower. They asked me what a sunshower was called. I told them it was called a Fox's Wedding, and then admitted that I only knew that because of an Akira Kurosawa movie—then I realized that they had never heard of Akira Kurosawa. I looked out at the rain falling over the bright grass and could only be sad that they had experienced so little of the world, and that the bit they had experienced was mostly awful.
Then I was back in my childhood home, alone, but all of the pictures had been taken down from the wall.
