The Day Hell Froze Over

Hell froze over on Sunday, July 15.

Most people didn’t know what was going on, but the news that week was one amazing thing after another.

The headlines on Monday, July 16, announced Congress had convened late Sunday night, and by daybreak Monday they had passed some incredible legislation. They were taking subsidies from the fossil fuel industry and giving them to programs backing renewable energy. Health care would be free for everyone, as well as education for as many years as a person might want to learn. Debt of all kind was eliminated, paid for by the billions saved when all the wars were ended. As they exited the Capitol building, their only response to reporters was, “We were compelled by something deep in our guts. We can’t explain it.”

Tuesday’s headlines reported the world’s billionaires giving away 90% of their wealth in the name of eliminating homelessness and hunger, and to rebuild roads and bridges. When a reporter asked why, their spokesperson said, “Being a millionaire is good enough. After all, how much money does one person need?”

Politicians and CEOs apologized for groping interns in Wednesday’s news.

On Thursday, there was a press conference where leaders of all the religions around the world agreed they actually all believed the same thing, and that none of them really knew anything about the afterlife, or if there even was an afterlife.

On Friday, the foremost scientists of the world puzzled over the sudden cooling of volcanoes, while people living in the deserts were skating on frozen ponds that mysteriously appeared overnight.

Saturday was quiet, more or less. Saturday’s paper was filled with editorials and interviews as to the cause of the utterly unprecedented phenomena. Nobody had an answer.

Now, in normal times, people would be arguing and coming to fisticuffs over all the disagreement. However, very oddly, they were all very polite and generous towards one another.

But the answer was very simple.

If you knew Mr. Harris, you knew he’d sworn that, after marrying Mrs. Harris several decades ago, he would never step foot inside a church again.

Also, if you knew Mr. Harris, you knew he wasn’t fond of Mrs. Harris’ mother. In fact, he found her downright despicable and, years ago, he’d sworn she would never step foot inside his house.

Of course, if you knew Mrs. Harris’ mother, you knew she was just fine with Mr. Harris’ sworn asservations. She herself guaranteed her son-in-law that it would be a cold day in H-E-Double-Toothpicks before she would even consider paying a visit to his residence.

On Sunday, July 15, Mr. Harris attended church with his wife, and afterwards he invited his mother-in-law to lunch, and she accepted.

And that’s when I knew it had finally happened.

Hell had frozen over.

It wasn’t in the news, but three weeks later Mrs. Harris packed her bags and left town. “Church was my only solitary moment of the week,” she said on her way out. “Now he’s there every Sunday. And what’s worse is Mother coming over for brunch afterwards. I liked things just the way they were, and now it’s just all muddled up.”

~~~~~

Sorcha Monk lives in a small town in a desert near a river. She belongs to four dogs who love her, and four cats who occasionally acknowledge her existence but always allow her to feed them. Sorcha used to be a middle school teacher, but now that she has her life back she writes stories, rides a large motorcycle, dabbles in ceramics and reads a lot.

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