Each month, I buy a book of twenty stamps. I create twenty post cards. I write twenty short stories about them. I send them to twenty strangers. This is the twenty stamps project.

Request a postcard by sending your snail mail address to sean.arthur.cox@gmail.com or find me on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/SeanArthurCox

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Plans for Doomsday



Another world war was inevitable, and it going nuclear only slightly less so. Experts across the globe forecast virtually identical doomsday scenarios. What would set off the war and when. Who would go nuclear first. Who would retaliate and where. When it would finally end. Fallout levels and how long the resulting nuclear winter would last. So precise were these myriad independent predictions that many, including the generals themselves, admitted defeat before even starting, and proceeded with the war anyway for they felt they no longer had a choice in the matter. People were so caught up in the “this is what will happen” part of the message that they completely overlooked the “unless we do something about it” bit at the end. Nations readied themselves for war just as predicted, even though they knew they would lose. Everyone, philosophers and laymen alike, bemoaned the death of free will if indeed it had ever existed at all. It had a strange effect on the psyche of the world, for though everyone knew the end was nigh, nowhere in the predictions-turned-prophecies was there mention of panic or rioting. No mention was given to the civilian masses at all except in terms of casualties and collateral damage. People assumed this meant that they would carry on life as normal until the end, and so they did. Only a few people deviated from their day-to-day existences, and even then only in small ways. Women didn't wait for men to propose as often, for instance, and some restaurants in the rural areas outside of major cities began to include in their advertising that their patios would have the best views for the end of the world.

- Originally mailed to J. and L. Stillman of New York City, New York

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