He's all like: "If only I hadn't had that goddamn dream."

And I'm all: "What, you think the end of the world came because you had a stupid dream? You think the sun boiled in the heavens, blistering the flesh off our backs and scorching the earth to dry wasteland, and the bugs overran our homes and every last scrap of food and all the orifices of our bodies, all because you had some goddamn dream? You're nuts. It was that spaceship. The one with those four . . . you know, spacedudes. With the weapons of mass destruction."

So he says: "Fine. I know that's what everybody said. And it kind of was that first horse-guy's fault anyway, the one who came riding out of that ship before the others. None of this happened before he showed up. Man, and I was doing great at work, too. I just got that raise. Guys took me to the bar, got me drunk off my ass. Rewarded myself with that goddamn wall-size flat screen. You ever heard porn in surround sound? It's like you're there, man. Maxed my credit card all to hell, but they'd just made me assistant manager." He shakes his head, sad-like. "Assistant goddamn manager."

I say: "Yeah, life was pretty sweet, before the end of the world."

He nods. "The sweetest. Then that spaceship crashes--"

"It didn't crash."

"--That spaceship lands, coming from whothefreak knows how far away, and that dude on the white horse debarks, starts pushing everybody around."

I frown. "I don't remember him pushing, but yeah; that horse-guy sure got around right after they landed. And the weather did start getting all crazy and stuff right about the same time he was riding all over town. What with the tidal waves, the boiling sun, then the coming of eternal darkness and whatnot, I was a little distracted I guess. I guess I hadn't really had too much time to think about it, whether he was pushy or not."

And he says: "Oh, he was pushy all right. I remember him being all like, 'War on Terror? War on Terror? I bring you Terror, muthafreakkahs!' And then, just before his three buddies attacked Earth with their satellites--or their ship, or their psi-freaking power or however they did it--that first dude got all ninja and crap."

I frown some more, shift on the broken cinderblocks where I'm sitting, try to get comfortable. I scratch my head, say: "I don't remember that. I do remember his horse, though. Whitest thing I ever saw; white like an albino skunk's ass. I remember the sound of its hooves as they hit the asphalt, sparks flying. And I more remember him being all like, 'Ye shall this,' and 'ye shall not that,' and 'trembleth ye before the power of righteousness and the wrath of the universe', yadda yadda yadda. Lots of ye olde talk, with thees and thous. That's more how I remember it, though ninja moves would have been cool."

He sighs, drawn out long, like air escaping from a leaky balloon. "Yeah. Maybe you remember it better. But ninja moves would have been way cool. Cooler than tsunamis wiping out New York, and all California falling into the ocean. That wasn't so cool. And that second horse dude, what the hell was his problem? What a total a-hole."

I remember something. "Hey," I say. "Are you sure it wasn't that second guy--the guy on the big red horse--who had the ninja moves? With the whole 'I bring you war' stuff? Because I kind of remember him saying something like that, all about war. He had a sword and I remember thinking, 'Dude, a real sword! That thing is awesome!' right before he sliced old Mrs. Kopalski--my nextdoor neighbor--right before he sliced old Mrs. Kopalski in half. Like she was a stick of butter, dude. Right in half. Then her Pomeranian starts all its yapping and --yapyapyap all day every day . . . I miss that dog--starts all its yapping, and without even stopping his big red horse that dude speared little Pom on the end of his sword and rode off, holding it high in the air. It was crazy. Totally crazy. Craziest thing I ever saw up till then. But I really don't remember any ninja moves."


About the Author

When not on ten wooded acres near Austin, Texas, Camille Alexa lives in Portland, Oregon in an Edwardian home with very crooked windows. She graduated from the University of Toronto (not recently, she wishes to disclose) with degrees in Women’s Studies (interesting, but not very useful), Fine Art (useful and terribly interesting, and as lucrative as advertised), and English.

Camille is a full member of Broad Universe and of the Science Fiction Poetry Association. She writes for The Green Man Review, serves as Flash Fiction Editor for Abyss & Apexand Poetry Editor for the literary print zine Diet Soap. Her first book, a collection of short works titled Push of the Sky , earned a Starred Review in Publishers Weekly.

She prefers her humor dark and her horror funny and can be found on LiveJournal as camillealexa.