The world was ending. The sky was dark and clouded. I was travelling in a vehicle on a busy freeway with people. I don't know who they were. By busy I mean slow moving, cars were going off the road, some were on fire. General chaos.
Surrounding the freeway was wasteland. Burning, scorched, and flat.
We pulled over on the side of the road. There was a plain, wooden, one room shack. There was no signage anywhere except the door. The sign on the door read 'Humor'. We went in and started to come to life. Sheets of paper were passed around. Ideas were shared and written down. We laughed til we cried. We cried til we laughed. We stayed there.
Humor saved us in the end.
4 comments:
I'm appreciate your writing skill.Please keep on working hard.^^
Sounds like Toronto ;)
Good work. Your images are powerful but your wording is not flowery or over-dramatic. That's a line to walk.
Thank you for your comments. I hope to be writing more frequently than the past six months (oops).
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