Winter 1977 – The Past is Fucked and the Future is Foul

 

She paced. Perhaps her energy was natural but I suspected that it had a boost from chemicals. “I’ve seen it,” she said, more to herself than to me. “I’ve seen the bombs going off. I’ve seen cities turning to ash and flesh boiling off bone. It’s going to happen. I don’t have a date. I didn’t see any calendars. But I saw myself in the mirror. I mostly looked like I do now but I had long hair, the kind of long that takes a couple of years to grow.”

I nodded. I asked, “What makes you believe that this is prophecy rather than dreams or visions?”

She looked at me then. She searched my face for a moment and then nodded as if reassured. “Because I brought something back.”