The world will end today.
A fact that only I know.
Verified by a vision: a precognition.
Today’s the day the sun explodes.
There will be no indication or variation to how you begin your day; the same nondescript mediocrity from the moment that you open your eyes. Once it happens, you won’t know for a little less than 8 and a half minutes. This is how long it takes for light from the sun to reach earth. This is how long after it will be before you to see the hot-white light of destruction. 8:20.
I saw it all in a dream.
The dream begins on the beach. It’s reoccurring and I’ve seen it play out countless times throughout my life. There stands before me a frail woman in the sand, casually smoking a cigarette as she looks out onto the water. The bones in her insubstantial hands are long and thin, just as the cigarette is long and thin. She is hunched over with the weight of advanced age pressing constantly down on her. Her skin is brown and weathered; a worn leather handbag, that’s somehow inexplicably as thin as tissue. Her frame is gaunt and boney with a potbelly that protrudes in direct contradiction to the rest of her. The gales of the sea-breeze press her orange-and-yellow-flowered sundress against her, silhouetting her crooked s-shape. The wind snaps the dress out behind her in a wild frenzy. This time-ravaged frame, all havocked boney limbs and pendulously sagging tits. She stands upon legs so delicate and spindly–birdlike–I find myself surprised they support her at all. Two little twigs.
Shielding her eyes from the sunshine, she slowly opens her mouth. I’m standing behind, but instinctively I am aware that were I able to walk around to her front, the eyes staring up at the sun would be nothing but empty sockets filled with vacant, opaque blackness. Her mouth is a yawning opening, uncrowded with teeth. Minutes pass around us and she stands, unmoving and statuesque, except for her snapping dress. After an inordinate amount of time staring upwards, her mouth begins opening further and further; unhinged and gaping in an impossibly snakelike fashion. This is when she begins to claw at the tissue-paper, her skin, shredding it and her dress into to ribbons. All of it is flowing out behind her, snapping in the salty zephyr.
The muscle tissue that is now revealed begins to grow bright with heat. She catches fire. The cigarette is devoured instantaneously igniting like flash paper. A seagull circles overhead. The black caverns that are her eyes become vivid embers of white-hot light staring upwards at the sky, directed at the sun. The beams of destructive light shoot out from her. Outwards and upwards. She means to destroy it and all of us with it. The misfortunate bird, the seagull that circled, finds itself in the path of this radiance and suddenly ablaze, it comets downward to the water colliding with the surface in a spray of foam. The bird extinguishes, expelling a quickly forgotten plume of black smoke.
Soon we will all be quickly forgotten plumes of black smoke. The world will burn. The dream ends in roaring blaze ravaging our entire solar system.
This happens today. You can believe me or not. Won’t matter soon.
The pills they gave me were what did it. Made the blockage. The chakra is open now. I’m sorry I had to kill that man. That guard who worked overnights. He was always nice to me. It was necessary. Please tell his wife and children that I’m sorry but it was necessary. I needed to be free. I needed to be clear. I needed to see.
I see it clearly now. The chakra is open. I needed to be here to wait for her. I needed to stand here, on the coast, to see. I walked here in the middle of the night because I needed to be sure that I was awake.
This is awakening.
This is no dream.
Am I awake?
I’ll know for sure soon.
I’ve been watching her skin and sundress flutter in flaming ribbons behind her for about 8 minutes now.