The Day at the End of All Days
by Michael Engelby
“Today is the day that comes at the end of all days. So what of all those other days? All those days that came before today? Were all of those days strung together--placed in order as though they were but a string of empyreal pearls dangling backwards into infinity--as if they were intended, or rather, were destined to be a direct line to this day? What shall become of all those days here at the end of all days?” These were the words that ascended upon his mind just before he began to wander through the town one last time.
How was it known that that day was the day at the end of all days since the events arrived too quickly to join the cursed ways of the daily news? It arrived at the brim of an amber sunrise after a thick moonless night that crept on longer than all previous nights and then at the first sight of light Jacob found his ears filled with the sound of horns blowing in a mind-deafening resonance that was supported only by the charging sound of thundering, earth crushing hooves and as so the skies before his eyes filled with all of man’s panoplies and all of man’s evil ways turning the air into a venerable, heavily-heated, sin-coated haze which sentenced the last light of all days to a place where no one could say.
Jacob wiped his sudden tears away as he emerged from the alley, the place he called home, and went to the street and stood just below the brownstone where he used to stay. From the edge of the alley on the edge of the street he saw the windows slide open and the doors swing wide as the people looked to the skies and poured into the streets. He looked around and he could see in the people’s faces, and in the reflections of their disturbed eyes the fears of their misbegotten ways but from their howling mouths there came no sound, the sound stolen away by the blaring horns and the thundering hooves that were coming his way...
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