Somewhere After Sunday

It really looked like a meteor strike.

But if I'm honest with you, it was really world peace.

I don't remember exactly when we began to notice it. At some point, all the news about wars and conflicts had disappeared. Ongoing threads about exploitation had died out, reporters' accounts had gone silent. People grew concerned about silencing and censorship in the media, and then the people most affected spoke up.

It was really over.

Everyone who'd gone silent started speaking again. They were simply too stunned by what they were seeing. How do you tell the world that... this is really done.

I remember hearing in the news that missile silos were being emptied the world over. World leaders confessed to possessing nuclear weapons, and every person of their status simply laughed it off, like it had been a game they were all playing anyways.

I think the first thing that hit me is that there were no cars anymore. Noticing this made me aware of the fact that I didn't have a job. I didn't need one anymore. It took several months to fully let that sink in.

There were more abandoned industrial facilities than ever. It turned out, it was much cheaper to sustain a humanity when every product being made was actually used to help sustain it.

I took up urban exploration. It was not what I had imagined.

In part, this was because "urban exploration" had begun to mean "exploring abandoned factories." But it was also because these factories were not the desolate places I expected to see. I felt a little bad that I'd come in too late to see them that way, but something about the lushness and life still drew me in.

Summer colors everywhere to see.

The adjustment took around twelve months. There were news when it was mostly finished, and they were excitedly announcing the final step of their plan. I remember seeing one important figure complain that they could have done it in a month, and after a few moments of silence, everyone just laughed it off.

They were going to destroy all internet infrastructure next sunday.

Each of them had different reasons, and each of them went on and on about why it was. None of them believed the internet had a part in the world they were making.

Whenever I brought it up in conversation, I seemed like an outlier. Nobody used the internet so much anymore. Everyone talked about their "real friends" and how I should care more about my "connections in real life."

My lover of five years was on the other side of the world.

On the day that it would happen, I went out to this huge building on the outskirts of the city. There was this pipe I liked to use as a bridge to cross a large gap. If you looked to your side, it was a gorgeous sight. That wild green valley that extended as far as I could see, with winds so persistent you could see the grasses sway, standing so high up that the slightest slip would be your fall.

The bombs were dropped, from such height that I could see where they were falling. They were the last ever. I thought about my friends as I saw them fall, hoping I would meet them somewhere else after this sunday.

It really looked like a meteor strike.