Apocalypse (modification of earlier version)
Little Danny Martin ran to his mother.
“Mama, look,” he said, crying, pointing to his arm.
“What’d you do, sweetheart?” she asked, thinking he must have fallen.
“Nothing, Mama. I was playing with Jake and then he pointed at me and started laughing, saying I had the cooties. I said no I didn’t and went to punch him, but he jumped back, laughing and told me not to touch him ’cause he didn’t want cooties, too.”
“Did you fall down?” Mrs. Martin asked, taking out the alcohol and some cotton balls.
“No, Mama. I was just playing and then Jake pointed and I saw the skin was peeling and then I felt the pain I didn’t notice while I was playing and then I came inside and…”
“Okay, baby. Let Mama clean it for you.” But as Mrs. Martin reached out to wipe little Danny’s arm, the skin began to disintegrate. “Merciful heaven! What in the world…”
“Mama!” little Danny screamed in agony.
Mrs. Martin watched helplessly as her little Danny’s skin ruptured, bled, peeled, melted away leaving him a crumpled, molten mass of human tissue. Simultaneously, the air around her was pierced with the screams of tortured anguish as every citizen of her town suffered the consequences of an event that had nothing to do with them, yet affected every living being on the planet.
Mrs. Martin watched her son die before she too became a footnote to a history none would live to write…or read.