It’s Not My Fault I’m an Elder Thing
It’s a Tuesday when I turn into an Elder Thing.
I know, given the option of days of the week, I expected it to be a Monday, too, but sometimes life doesn’t make sense. Sometimes your life collapses under the debt of 21st century living rather than any ill-advised financial plan of your own making. Sometimes the people you love all die within six months of each other. Sometimes, you go a little loopy and start hoarding artifacts loosely affiliated with a strange sect of Doomsayers predicting the end of days.
And sometimes, you solve a seven-sided puzzle box while drinking mimosas and waiting for all your friends to cancel.
On a Tuesday.
Which also happened to be my birthday.
So, not only did the world end on a Tuesday, but it was my birthday, too.
There’s nothing that brings down what should be a casual get together amongst a bunch of brunch friends than the introduction of a fourth dimension to your reality. Being able to see the ebb and flow of life through the ether really puts things in perspective as your mind expands, growing and changing, until it encompasses the whole of human experience.
It changes the way you think about things; the way you interact. I mean, with a long enough timeline, it’s clear humanity is a cancer on the planet and the heavens. Left unchecked, they’ll spread their poison across the cosmos, a fetid soup of bacterium looking for their next petri dish to consume.
It was a real downer, if I’m being honest.
So, I took care of it.
It’s actually quite pleasing to know humanity is gone.
For the first time in years, I’m feeling pretty good about everything.
Hell, even Mondays are gone.
And, luckily, my friends never showed, so I didn’t have to hear their screams as the Great Serpent swallowed the Earth.
Best. Birthday. Ever.
