Listen to Jim’s podcast:
http://redclaydiary.com/
or read Jim’s story below:
The Pre-Post-Apocalyptic Bookshop in the Remaining Universe
As I pass the densely populated bookshelves in the darkening shop at end of day closing time, my fingers brush the spines and cause the books to call out their titles to me, A Canticle for Leibowitz, Brave New World, 1984, The Road, Alas, Babylon, On the Beach, Cat’s Cradle, The Time Machine, and on and on and on.
This evening, all the post-apocalypse tomes seem to be vying for my attention, longing to have their messages heard, wondering why their powerful preachments were read, enjoyed, discussed, then tossed aside without resulting in a changed world, a more peaceful universe.
Each book sets forth ideas that could teach us a lesson, make us more dedicated to protecting humanity, cause us to keep our guard up and advance our belief in the welfare of children and grandchildren, neighbors and kin.
But not much happens among humankind in the static cosmos. Sure, creation at large continues in flux, supernovae come and go, black holes slurp up everything, planets are destroyed and born, but we upright mammals seem to be wandering in circles, trapped in cycles of greatness followed by depression followed by hope followed by despair…
I suppose there is another genre of such imaginative fiction—the Pre-Apocalypse tales. Interestingly, this particular category includes every other literary work in existence, for we always live on the edge of the volcano, waiting for the next Apocalypse, the next Shift.
Since we uprights don’t seem to have the skills to alter our own destiny, we just wend our way through each day, sometimes achieving wonderful things, often making things worse…strange suspiring animals who wish we could be greater than we are.
Pre- and Post-Apocalyptic stories at least afford us an outlet that gives us the illusion of sharing our fears and searching for the good that lies sometime buried within us.
Here in the twilight aisles of the last bookstore in the universe, my browsers and I encourage one another, carefully re-arrange the deck chairs, and make every precious moment seem everlasting and hopeful
© Jim Reed 2015 A.D.