Sons of Bitches

Come March, the changing tides on Earth were slowly noticed. The higher infrastructure from a culture well-used to global warming and flooding prevented immediate recognition, though anyone who was in the know enough to see the waters weren’t supposed to be like this knew that it was already over.

Official President Gesus Washington himself, along with most of the world’s leaders, were made aware of the crisis around this time. Meetings between the nations were held- as usual, Former Official US President Walter Kidney was also invited, due to his nature as a grandfather of the landscape they controlled.

He didn’t arrive at any of those meetings. Washington did claim he had messaged him- according to this world’s very creator, they’d be better off not telling anyone.

For some, it was a hard pill to swallow, even knowing the unpreventable nature of the phenomen. But with how difficult the knowledge of mankind’s coming euthanasia was to carry for those who did know, it was ultimately decided that the information would be withheld for as long as possible… even if that might eventually prove useless by the time death arrived at their doorsteps, as theorized. Most agreed that it wouldn’t really matter, by then.

And so, with the moon slowly approaching Earth’s orbit, dragged along by what was essentially a massive man-made meteor, theories clawing at each other as to what it might do when it got there, all still had to accept that whatever happened, almost none of us would survive it.

In his room, Kidney remained, still on Earth. 

It stung to even play his favorite games, but when the alternative was thinking about how his world would be crushed, it was all he could muster.

He locked himself away, refusing to see the faces of anyone he worked with or god forbid to hear the noises of his park-

And slowly, but surely, accepted his fate.