Day Three Hundred Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Almost too much has happened today for me to write about.

And the sights I was witness to crowd out all else.

The storm clouds have moved on, leaving behind them a new reality.

The great city is no more. Its structures razed down to ground level – and below. The deepest depression appears to be in the area of the administration building. And there is no movement, of man or beast across the landscape. No fires burn and no smoke fills the air above. Silence only spreads its wings, flushing out the sighing of the wind.

Elijah and I returned aft to our cabin in the superstructure of the vessel, as the ship’s engines rumbled the deck beneath our feet.

Day Three Hundred Six #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Storm clouds blew in this afternoon. And appear to go on forever, encircling and closing in on the city. It seems too early as there yet remains three days to run.

Elijah and I discussed plans to get through the cordon and into our ship. We had just settled on a stratagem, when the said ship cast off from the dock and pulled away out into the roads.

Obviously Stan has identified it as ours and ordered her off. At the same time he has reinforced the troops on the perimeter around us.

I admitted disappointment, but Elijah remained non-plussed.

At that moment the storm broke loose. Lightning and hail fell from the turbulent skies.

They both spared us.