Rusty Stream

The Diary of Joseph Cooper - Day 1 It's a little cold for this time of year. While the sun shines majestically over the tops of houses that surround me, the cold bite of the strong wind acts as a reminder that it's not quite summer yet. I ask myself if I will live to see the summer. A neighbour walks by my front door as I smoke my cigarette, a greyhound is attached to the other end of the leash. I've often wondered why Greyhounds walk the way they do. Some dogs drudge along slowly, others have legs so short they seem to be in a constant sprint. A greyhound walks gracefully, with tiny invisible springs attached to it's paws it lightly bounces along the surface below. It treats every step like a ballet recital. I finish my cigarette and head back indoors. It is as good a day as any to convince people the World is going to end. I suppose I should document why I think the World is going to end, just in case post-apocalyptic ants which have grown to the size of farmyard animals develop the ability to read. Did you know that ants will bridge a gap between two ant-hills using their own bodies? Of course you did, you're the Ant Overlord who has learned to read. I hope you enjoy the planet I once called "home", it really was much nicer before it ended. Aesthetically, anyway. There were beautiful sites, both land-made and man-made. On your travels to this document you will no doubt have visited many landmarks, none of which resemble what they once did. Unfortunately they were smashed in the face by nuclear war/global warming/skynet* (*delete as applicable). The green trees, the blue sky, the oddly rust coloured stream near where I grew up. It was full of discarded shopping trollies and surrounded by a thick forest which would've made it an ideal site to commit murder or rape. When I fell from a tree swing head-first into the orange goo; it's a memory I will have fondly remembered and forgotten by the time this is read. It's very difficult to remember a dream. There's a brief period when you first open your eyes after sleeping where it's difficult to distinguish whether your dream was actually real or not. You may have been flying through the air at great speed, enjoying a night out with friends, having frantic sex with a famouser you are never likely to meet, or maybe you've played so many video games that when you sleep you replay the game, in perfect detail, in your head. The dream I had last night was different, in the way this particular situation has never happened to me before. I remember it being very bright and wet, as the light glanced off the green leaves of trees towering above me and shot straight into my eyes. The ground was soil. I checked my feet for mud. I noticed a line of ants crawling up the side of a gravestone, just generally going about their business. I lifted my head to see a hill covered in grass. A man was standing on it's top. I knew before my sight could recognise the figure that it was my father. I walked over at a slow pace but my feet were carried quickly by an unseeable current. We were both sat on the hill when he told me the World was going to end in 30 days. I awoke slowly, but quickly tried to make notes of what I had just witnessed. A few scribbles to remind me of the moment, and the feeling. The feeling was that it was too real to have been a dream. Perhaps my subconcious travelled to an alternate reality. I've pieced together all I can from what I remember. All I know for certain was it felt like a warning, a very heartfelt warning. Maybe this is what I need to give my life a little direction, a purpose. I can't escape the feeling that this really happened, and I can't just ignore the feeling in my stomach. It's possibly the curry I ate last night. The World is going to end in 30 days. I will try and call a few close friends and advise them of what I have experienced. I am quite certain they won't believe me. I need to visit my father too.