daydreams of apocalypse

At noon on an average Tuesday, mother presented the midday meal to her small family and topped it off with an array of cured vegetables from the bright glowing rows of jars on the dark shelves buried in the earth. The meal was a sacrament to the destruction of the world. After the sacrament, the family moved in procession down into the bunker. From light to dark; above to below. There had been indications in the air that the world would come apart. There had been portents in the streams that the time of the dismantling was very near. There had been warnings on the breeze and in the earth. When they sat around the hearth and stared into the fire, they saw the face of God mouthing words meant only for them, though they could not understand what he said. Now, as they stared at the figure in the fire, the portents would enter their brains. And the sun would fall from the sky.