Dear APOCALYPSE #15

Dear Apocalypse,

I’m worried about you. I worry you won’t survive in this delicate suffocating haze of calamitous humanity.

I went on a date today. A first date. Everything is closed, but we touched elbows and walked in the park, drinking booze from coffee mugs and passing all the places we might have ordinarily stopped.

Nothing is forever and nothing is forever.

Whenever I fuzz out under the weight of it all, I try to go for a walk, and pass all the places I might have ordinarily stopped.

Dear Apocalypse; not today.

(written March 18th 2020)