A nameless man crosses a nameless street, one among countless.
The sky shatters above, bright beyond comprehension.
Fire and brimstone rain on a dying Earth.
God himself bellows judgement, and the man realizes that Eliot was wrong. It was a bang, after all.
Oblivion embraces him, and the world ends.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.
She seems surprised when I show up, but she lets me back in all the same.
I fumble with the flowers, and her smile betrays her relief.
We don’t mention last night. It’s forgotten.
We’ll never grow old together, but that’s fine. We’re together to the end. Nothing else matters.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.
If Kennedy pulled the trigger, we all know what comes next. This city and me are both done for, and there’s a strange clarity in knowing.
Priorities form amidst futile chaos.
People rush the market like there’s no tomorrow. They’re probably right.
I buy roses and walk towards my street.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.
The bar’s radio jerks me from a whisky haze.
“We interrupt this program…”
Cuba. Huh, I never thought they’d actually do it.
They finally turned on the heat.
I’m still reeling from last night. Tear-stained eyes fill my mind, and I’m sorry.
I sober up, and put on my coat.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.
Wandering, the soldier comes across a gutshot man propped against a wall. He wonders if it was his bullet.
Jets fly overhead, heard but not seen.
He sits beside his enemy and offers a cigarette. One puff, and a shared smile.
Dawn comes an hour early.
I love you, mom.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.
Boats hit the sand, and the war kicks off.
Screams and shots fill the air. Bullet and bombs ravage the land.
The soldier does his duty. Soon he loses count of the bodies. He sees glory in all its horror, and tastes vomit.
Day becomes night, and then day again.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.
Orders come in, and ships go out.
A soldier looks around him, and grits his teeth. He checks his rifle one more time.
The heat is incredible. Salt is in the air.
Most of us will die–if we win.
He thinks of his mother.
Landfall in an hour.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.
The Soviets go dark the moment our forces make landfall.
A day passes. Nothing.
Finally, the inevitable appears on every screen.
A briefcase of codes is opened. Somewhere, missiles are given wings.
The room is numb.
In one motion, I’ve outdone Hitler, Stalin, and the Devil too.
God forgive me.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.
Now we wait. Thought hangs heavy in the air.
The Cold War is over, replaced by our every fear fulfilled.
Generals talk about casualty figures as if they were just numbers.
Advisors advise me to rally the people.
Men like us wield the power of Gods to settle mortal disputes.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.
Command goes silent when the phone rings.
I hesitate, but I must answer, and so I do.
A faraway voice tells me Khrushchev and his ships called our bluff.
I say my lines. The invasion of Cuba begins.
I don’t want this, but even powerful men are slaves to circumstance.
Phillip Owens is a rookie EMT, eventual nurse, and aspiring writer.