“You’re losing it, you know?” said Rose Number 2. “This really isn’t healthy. You’re sitting in a bunker talking to five roses, waiting for the world to end. But the fact is that it has been two days and you’re still alive, so it’s pretty clear that the meteor was stopped somehow. Are you going to get over these delusions and go outside or not?”
“Shut up,” I told the talking flower. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. The meteor is obviously going to strike at any moment, and then we’ll all be done. Goners. We’ll have nothing to live for because we won’t be alive. What don’t you get about that? They’ll be no more watching golf on the television, no more chances to buy flower seeds online and certainly no more jam doughnuts. You’ve lost the plot if you think otherwise.”
Rose Number 4 chuckled. “You’re literally talking to your flowers. Sure, we may be alive and sentient now, but you’re the one who’s clearly lost the plot. How long are you going to stay here until you admit that you made a mistake and go back to society? Your house is going to get looted if you don’t show some signs of life soon.”
“I never thought you would turn on me, 4. I thought you had my back. I thought you’d be devastated that you will never get to see those beautiful climbing roses from across the street again.”
“Oh, please,” retorted 4. “I’ll see them again, no question about it. Just as soon as somebody comes down here and proves to you that everything is fine. Seriously, Abby, you need to snap out of it! There’s nothing wrong with admitting that you were wrong.”
I gritted my teeth. “There is something wrong! In case you forgot, there was a meteor the size of a moon headed straight for Earth! Mark my words, we’ll all be turned into space dust any minute now!”
Anyway, that was about three hours ago. Trust me. Any second now, we’ll all be cosmic powder.
– Abby