We awaken to a deafening roar. The floor thrusts towards the ceiling. Walls splinter and pieces of plaster crumble around us. My husband anchors my body to his. Anchors us to a bed that’s bouncing to a violent beat. He shouts, “Everything is going to be okay.” But his voice is a whisper in my ear because Oh my God, we’re going to die is thundering in my head. The house is cracking, groaning, slamming, shaking. I am sure it’s going to implode and swallow us up in a heap of sheetrock and brick. Swallow us into the angry Earth.
Karen Crawford’s work has been published in Flash Boulevard, Reflex Fiction, The Ekphrastic Review, Six Sentences, and Versification, among others. Find her on Twitter @KarenCrawford_.