Mountains are falling from the heavens.

The horde screams out in terror as another piece of the sky crashes into the ground, flattening all those unfortunate enough to be nearby.

The ground shudders constantly, the very earth juddering to its core as any and all shelter we once called home tumbles into the ground.

It’s too fast. Too huge. We stand no chance of survival.

Deconstruction is everywhere, chaos reigns supreme, and all we can do is pray to whatever god may hear us for some kind of a miracle.

“Billy?”

Billy stops looking at the garden’s ecosystem falling to pieces and looks to his mate.

“Yeah?”

“You just killed another one of ‘em snails. Try to watch where you drop those bricks cause I don’t like the slime on me gloves.”

Billy can’t undo what is done. He will carry this guilt to the grave.

He offers a mumbled apology to the annoyed builder who turns around and continues with laying the concrete for the walkway next to the house, takes one last look at the panicking insects running around the tarmac, and turns to unload the next round of bricks.