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God, you mean I lost my virginity to the apocalypse?" Morgan sighed again. "The whole thing was really embarrassing; my parents sent me to Brooklyn when they found out." She shrugged. "I thought I’d be safe in a gay bar, okay? What were you doing in there anyway?" Lace looked at me sidelong. "You were where?" I took a sip of beer, swallowed it. "I, uh, hadn’t been in the city...very long. I didn’t know. ↗
We teach our boys to firebomb villages, but we won't let them write fuck on the side of their planes because it's obscene. ↗
Catastrophe, riots, factories blowing up, armies in flight, flood - the ear can detect a whole apocalypse in the starry night of the human body. ↗
What do you know? This is where it all began,” he said. “Began?” “This is exactly where I was when I wanted to kiss you,” he whispered, his lips brushing along my neck causing me to melt under his touch. “So bad.” “Except this time there’s no drunk netballer squawking at us,” I teased. “I wouldn’t care if the seven horseman of the Apocalypse charged through the garden right now, nothing’s gonna stop me from doing this.” He leaned down and captured my lips with tenderness, a completely perfect kiss, like it always was. ↗
The sad thing is that sometimes I just wanna roll over and give her a little cuddle, but the bolster pillow she insists on sleeping with down the middle of the bed between us means I’d need to be a mountaineer as well as a locksmith. ↗
It takes four angels to oversee an apocalypse: a recorder to make the book that would be scripture in the new world; a preserver to comfort and save those selected to be the first generation; an accuser to remind them why they suffer; and a destroyer to revoke the promise of survival and redemption, and to teach them the awful truth about furious sheltering grace. ↗
The sun tells the best joke of a day full of them, setting so spectacularly that you can almost smell the tropical paradise lazing somewhere over this rim of endless, gray socialist towers. Miles of square windows explode orange, red, and purple, like a million TV sets broadcasting the apocalypse. Clouds unspool. The sky drains of birds. ↗
... I succeeded at math, at least by the usual evaluation criteria: grades. Yet while I might have earned top marks in geometry and algebra, I was merely following memorized rules, plugging in numbers and dutifully crunching out answers by rote, with no real grasp of the significance of what I was doing or its usefulness in solving real-world problems. Worse, I knew the depth of my own ignorance, and I lived in fear that my lack of comprehension would be discovered and I would be exposed as an academic fraud -- psychologists call this "imposter syndrome". ↗
#fraud #math #school #apocalypse
