K. Elizabeth Fitzgerald

And Here, At the End of All Things

The end of the world had come and gone, and it wasn’t as bad as we expected. That there were any survivors at all was a miracle, though whether it was mercy or vengeance was yet to be decided. We would never know who fired the first shot, if it was us or them, and ultimately it didn’t matter. We attacked each other without the desire to conquer, but with a lust for destruction. Four-fifths of the global population had been demolished to ashes after only a few days of nuclear warfare as governments held fast to their pride and their promises of mutually assured destruction.