H Trope: Apocalyptic Diary
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July 4, 1895
Mother said that when she was a girl, they ate pigeon every day at a time, and sometimes for days and days at a time. She said she hated pigeon meat.
She also said that pigeon didn’t make you vomit until you brought up only blood. She said there were days when pigeon’s didn’t fill the sky and eat everything in sight, including people sometimes. When I asked her if they sounded nicer when she was a girl, she said, “No, they’ve always sounded like a rusty mill wheel pump in an afternoon breeze.”
July 19, 1895
I’ve been thinking about what a time traveler could possibly want with pigeons. They’re monsters and the preachers round these parts think that they are a curse placed on mankind for the hubris of thinking he was better than nature. Most of them are old enough to remember when people actually ate pigeons instead of pigeons eating the clothes and food off us. Pa says that the pigeons don’t eat Human meat – except for the eyes. Mother hushed him up real fast and asked me if I’d heard what he said. I turned around and said, “What?”
Mother managed a pained smile and a glance at Pa that would have peeled paint from the outhouse – if there’d been any paint left on it.
Later that day, a pigeon flock passed over our town and it was dark enough to have to light the lanterns. The sound is horrible and we could hear the sound of the birds as they relieved themselves on our house.
Mother shouted at the roof as if she was trying to scare them away. She scared the littles so much, I finally had to hold the youngest and let the others lean on me.
It took fifteen hours for the flock to pass. Mother said, “This is the end of Humanity. The very, very end, and we will have died surrounded by meat we can’t eat any more, bereft of what food we grew and might have eaten, with our waters poisoned by pigeons who drop a deadly rain as they pass over us…”
Pa said nothing but hung his head. Danforth and me looked at each other until finally Dan looked down. He was so much like Pa, it made my heart clench tight.
Outside, the deafening shriek of the passing flock faded into complete silence.
Names: ♀ American Midwest, ; ♂ American Midwest
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