By Gabrielle Barnett
Gabrielle Barnett is an undergraduate Psychology and Art major studying to become an art therapist. She enjoys art in all mediums and especially sculpture of clay, cardboard, and soft materials. Her work focuses on differing perceptions of the world around her and communicates stories of passion and perspective. On campus, she is an editor for the Marlin Chronicle, co-Editor in Chief of the second edition of the Batten Honors College Academic journal, and involved with several other clubs. In her free time, she enjoys doing side-quests with her friends and creative writing.
the end of the world starts before lunch
i turn to my best friend and loudly complain
that it's too early in the morning
she rolls her eyes and says,
"you're always up at this time anyways"
and i laugh and complain that other people shouldn't be
the end of the world is not as dramatic as people say
there's no falling stars which is a shame
i've never seen a comet in real life
i always tended to be looking the other way
the end of the world sounds like every other day
people are talking news anchors are panicking
she asks me, "do we still have class?"
and i say, "you know they'll never cancel"
when we both laugh
that sounds normal too
the world ends slowly
drying like oil paint instead of acrylic
it's sticky like it too
my friend is watching the news and translating the lingo
until i shut off the tv and
mention the half a pint of ice cream in my freezer
he tells me he'd rather have a beer
we fall into the same argument as ever
about what's childish and whether beer is good
you couldn't even tell this might be the last time we ever talk
i tell another friend it's the end of the world
and she says, "no shit"
i chuckle and say,
"if it doesn't end, we'll have to do a presentation on it"
and she groans before laughing
the end of the world is quiet and then it's loud
louder than i'm comfortable with
the sirens are grating and unnecessary
i turn on my favorite song
louder than usual
i don't exactly need to preserve my hearing anymore
somehow we all end up sitting on a lawn
both the beer and my ice cream are long gone
classes are presumably cancelled because
i'm not sure who's going to be around to teach or attend tomorrow
the sky is cluttered with planes but we can still see
just a little bit of blue
"what a day," i say and everyone sort of chuckles
i think about going home but know i'll never make it
the roads are all red on apple maps
everyone's trying to get somewhere
but us
we're just here
and maybe that's enough