It's been three or four years... not really sure. I relive that day over and over. Why didn't we see it coming? Guess that question isn't really fair, who could have seen that coming. No one believed in God anymore. There was no moral majority.
The scientists, the scholars, the physics experts, meteorologists, PHDs, Bible thumpers, scratched and pulled at their hair. Psychics, soothsayers, diviners, wiccans.. they were all consulted. That ended in much ooooing and ahhhhhing, but nothing worthwhile was accomplished. In the end though, the powers that be spoke and their way of dealing with it was to use force.
At first it appeared to have been an optical illusion. Some trick of the light, some strange reflection off the ocean. When the sun set, it was still there. I knew what it was.... I watched the glowing horses stomp their hooves, I saw the shining of the sharp two edged swords.
They didn't sit on the land, actually the other worldly apparition hovered between the Heavens and the Earth.
The first day they appeared out of a cloud. Each horse a different color, blood red, white as snow, black as night, pale-green like a translucent, gauzy piece of fabric . Each horse had a mane of fire. Each rider, more fearsome than the next.
Famine, Pestilence, War and Death. We had been warned. Still no one understood that now the riders were visible, though, they had been riding for many years. At the time I didn't realize the visualization was for our benefit. That this was the last chance to make it right for ourselves. This was a time of quiet, a time given to us before the total destruction of humankind.
Of course, we didn't take advantage of the quiet. We didn't fall to our knees and beg for forgiveness, no, instead... we outfitted the army, airforce, navy, marines, yes, we armed ourselves.
Before the first bomb was sent, the vision came back to me. The slaughter, the feast, the bloody emasculation of man... The rendering of a divine judgement...
I dig down into the ground for grubs... and roots. Sometimes I wonder, would it have been better if I had perished that day, but then I look at the little patch of grass, the ten or eleven saplings, the water bubbling up through the rocks and I say... Thank you.