Sunset muffin

It was meant for you. My love. My shelter. My cook. I miss your cooking so much. Why did you left and never returned?

We talk right after my work. Our conversation continues until I reach the mall. “Muffin,” you whisper in a shy voice.

I laugh. We’ve been together for two months, and you still feel ashamed about your love for muffins.

“Ok,” I say.

Connection is interrupted. Not only for me. For everyone. I don’t think much about it. All I want is to return home. To you. My love.

Food bought. Drinks bought. It is time to go home. Signal still gone. It happens. Nothing to worry about.

Few mad men approach me. Bunnies are attacking, they scream. Such nonsense.

Connection still lost.

More people run toward me. I step aside. Barely.

Reach our home. Windows full with light. No neighbours. What happened? I rush to our room. Door open. No one inside. I call for you.

People outside still screaming. I look outside. A sea of humans flood the street. I call for you again.

Silence.

You left me? After all this time? I’m on the verge of crying. We had a special spark between us. You left. I try to call you. No signal.

You left me. No. We talked before connection was lost. I heard your happiness. What happened then?

I rush out on the street. Reach out into the flooded street. My hand grabs a little fish. A boy. “What is going on?”

“Alien attack.” Kid says.

“Ridiculous.”

“Whatever.” He hits my hand and resumes swimming.

At this moment I vow to find you. Days go by. I find a group. They explain that it is a beginning of an apocalypse. They sound sane, and I choose to believe their words.

Sunset is beautiful, and this muffin was for you. I’m hungry. I’m sorry.

Nom Nom Nom.