Literary Crumbs: Poems & Short Stories to Savor by D. Ryan Lafferty

by D. Ryan Lafferty

It was high noon on a Sunday when we heard the rumble. Somewhere, far off in the distance, the subtle boom, deceivingly soft for its magnitude, unimaginable to the poor souls who barely paid it any mind. This clarion call, the bedroom alarm of the doomsday clock, a harbinger foretelling a hint of the abject horror to come. A few of us froze in place, watching as seconds later, a colossal rolling cloud leveled everything in its path. Like a still life painting of a passing storm, it swept along the horizon, toppling skyscrapers, billboards, warehouses and gyms, so newly constructed. Paying no head, no deference, for their cost, historic, or aesthetic value. All at once in a surreal moment, the cataclysmic hush of utter destruction fell deafening upon waiting ears, so desperately hungry to hear any indication of their collective fate. 

An inhale of silence as nature held its breath in sheer terror. Fell voices whispering doom rolled like thunder following after and shook the very foundations of what was, what is, and what would be from that moment on.

We never knew what hit us. The problems of this morning and the day before were now grains of powder in the sea of dust that was, well, everything. The midday sun, all but obstructed, pressed crimson beams through the blackness of the smoke. Blood orange tiger stripes streaked like neon reminiscent of flame and lava in the bowels of the underworld. It cast shadowy silhouettes of the carnage underneath gathering clouds of doom. 

The earth trembled in violent contractions in sick revulsion to the nuclear poison lodged within her breast. She shuddered and heaved in every direction and for the first time in what seems like forever, we felt small, insignificant in the enormity of it all. 

Running, we were; scattering in every direction like ants fleeing from a blast of dynamite. The smell of smoldering plastic, drywall, and gas, wrestled the very air from our lungs and burned our tearstained eyes in the oppressive gloom. 

The scale of destruction, the abject carnage was impossible to process amid the terror of that moment. And for hours later, each of us grasped for any shred of our own sanity, for any bearing or landmark that would point our way back toward the familiar, the safety of home and routine. But there would be no indication, no breadcrumbs visible of anything recognizable. Survivors huddled in crevices relying on instinct alone, smart phones glowing in the shadow of armageddon. Lost without data, without service, without our platforms, we looked to each other for strength and direction. We emerged with the existential task of rebuilding in the wake of total destruction. Strangers now had to become friends, even family to overcome a reality brought on by ourselves, our choices, our leaders, everyone who turned away from the true problems of that lovely, beautiful world that once was. 

In the face of any tragedy, after any loss, we have but one choice to make. Do we cling to the tattered remnants of our past? Do we hold firm to the hurt, the anger? Do we relive the memory of every old argument that brought us nothing but misery and destruction, or do we choose to take that step forward and create something new? Every morning we have the power to change our world, but only if we really want to. 

Dr. D. Ryan Lafferty is a local Bordentown poet, writer, and the author-illustrator of children’s books. To see more of his work, visit http://www.DartanionPress.com