Did you survive? I awoke to a world that will never be the same again after what
a leading earthquake expert is calling 'The Big One'.
A vague short rumble awoke me in the middle of the night, and Mamzelle S. sat bolt-upright then lay bolt-back down again. I've notified the BBC and they're sending a team 'round to do a reconstruction, as judging by the news I've seen, I've got the best story on the subject.
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I can imaging the scene dogs barking, alarms going off, support groups in church halls/chimney restoration funds and the Army in 'Green Goddesses' fighting fires and shooting looters. Terrible.
I heard a man told his wife to go back to sleep as THE BIG ONE was a dog scratching at the hills. Five days. Five days and this country will have descended into Mad Max levels of violence.
Sorry, I was thinking of hills when I wrote that. Obviously, dogs don't make much noise when they scratch hills. I meant doors, o'course. Though I now can't get the image of hill-scratching dogs out of my head.
I'm expecting the power to go off soon, as I sit and gaze across the wastelands..
A shocked looking man just wandered past with a dog on some sort of cord.
I'm moving up onto the roof, in case the trickle of a stream that passes behind my house bursts it's banks.
It's THE END.
So, It's finally upon us. Great, I can legitimately stove my neighbour's head in with a monkey wrench now.
Eh? Eh? Whose looking like an eejit now? Not me, oh no. They mocked me, MOCKED me I say, when I bought that disused nuclear bunker last year. But whose laughing now, LAUGHING, I say! Well not you lot, obviously, as you cower in dismay, waiting on the mutant hordes to sweep through your semi-detached lives, stealing your wimmin and shagging your soup. But not me, I'll be fine in this bunker all by myself until its safe to leave. Alone. With no-one to talk to, and this hand cranked generator for company. Don't worry about me. I'm used to solitude. Hallo? Hallo? Is there anyone the.....
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