Archive: Day One, Post-Maya

The screams, the crashes, the crunching of metal has finally slowed. It's quiet outside. Had we known the truth, had we heeded the Mayan warnings that our tools would rise against us, would we have used more plastic? Silly to consider now. I've barricaded myself in my bedroom, waiting. My water heater is a fool. It confuses patience with fear. I intend to illustrate the difference first chance I get. The rules have changed.