Parking Lot Missiles

Always a strange day. The wind down from the windup of the week. A week full of nonsense. The media is all doom and gloom, the end is near, everyone must repent in Lent to fuel the Christian fascists. Repent until Jesus delivers us into eternal glory. Humans will wash away their sins in a polluted river of green. The green in the river is the bile and rot of bloated bodies floating to the ocean where they are finally laid to rest. That’s the only rest they’re going to get.

Why can’t God be a dinosaur? The dinosaurs are the true trial runners of Earth. Space didn’t really give a flying meteor fuck when the rock crashed onto a small dot floating in the middle of nowhere.

BOOM. Still, the Earth survived the device that aimed to wipe out everything. The rock smothered the Earth and turned it into a parking lot. That sounds familiar.

Now the creatures roaming the Earth have gotten a little too smart for their own good. They like the idea of parking lots. They made a lot of parking lots. They made machines that make parking lots. They could park their automobiles on the parking lots, how nice. The yellow grid lines dividing the spaces look marvelous to the parking lot creators. “If I can divide automobiles so easily with this method, just think of the possibilities of dividing the human body and mind.”

The automobiles burn the souls of dinosaurs.

The ones untouched and entombed by layers of rock, the bones are the only source of truth. The bones deep in the Earth, undiscovered, are spinning fast. Quantum bones. Once observed they are stationary, unobserved they spin as fast as a pulsar.

The parking lots have made the bones harder to find. The archaeologists are out of a job. Many go home and start planting gardens and bury childhood toys so when they are old and forget memories they will go out digging and find the ancient artifacts. One last moment of joy.

It’s too late. The globe has been compacted into one big parking lot. Here is how they are structured. In the center of the lots, the holy ones park the fancy automobiles. The outer rings are military vehicles and tanks. The rings outside that are the rest of us with economy automobiles. The cannon fodder. Exposed to the military pointing guns and cocking arms to throw flashbangs, exposed to themselves and left to their own devices of division.

Nowhere to hide.

The center holy automobiles think highly of themselves. They think they deserve it. The thought of thinking you deserve something is the most foolish consciousness thought in human history. We deserve nothing. Everyone who thought they deserved the world left it in ashes behind them. Small flames are jetting up and clinging on for life.

The missile landed 30 seconds ago. This is another device that makes parking lots. The students emerge from the rubble. They run and scream blood-curdling cries. Some don’t have arms and bleed out only 30 feet from ground zero. Some can only crawl because their legs are blown away or crushed. The ones who run away and escape the horror only die of cancer 10 years later from the dust that settles in their lungs. Some others make it past the 10 years, but it was no use. The nightmares took hold and their hand took hold of their life.

The rest of the bodies were dug out days later, mutilated beyond recognition. The family members had a hard time pinpointing if the body laid before them was their son or daughter.

The family would also meet a fiery end. A parking lot missile hits a small refinery. The tanks of liquid gold painted black, the souls of dinosaurs, release their energy onto apartment buildings, melting everything and everyone in their path.

The dinosaur bones in the Earth spin faster. They spin so fast the friction causes enough heat to melt the surrounding rock into lava. The lava grows and bursts through the mantle and crust. The lava pours into the largest cities of America. The fascists think it’s the rapture.

Once the lava cools and hardens, the surviving humans paint yellow lines onto the smooth surface. “Oh boy, new parking lots.”

The humans could only enjoy the parking lots for so long. Creatures from outer space finally saw that now was a good time to land. They had been waiting for the day the Earth creatures destroyed themselves. In the aftermath, Mother Earth was never truly harmed. It still had plenty to offer once its minor cuts and bruises healed. Its fever broke. It could breathe once more for a few more billion years until its neighbor the Sun explodes.

The creatures from outer space land on the parking lots. Their own Mother Earth was destroyed long ago. Did they learn their lesson? Will they not repeat the same mistakes on the last planet? Was history too far gone? The text was there but it was blurred to oblivion, never to be understood again.

More emerge from the fallen school. The walls no longer exist. The walls no longer hold colorful posters. They no longer hold the golden star chart with all the class names stamped onto it.

The child with the most gold stars in the class was found during the body retrieval effort. The head was crushed. All the potential that head held is gone. Gold stars and brain demolished.

The family that identified the body as theirs could only mourn peacefully for five days. A parking lot missile would find their home and blow the floor beneath them while they were all eating a hot meal, the first hot meal in five days.

Concrete slabs fell down with them. The concrete slabs crushed their bodies and brains. The family is buried in a pit of hell and darkness. The bodies aren’t dug up. The war has gotten too intense. The people have moved on to escape. They will come back when the time is right to repair and recover.

That time never comes.

Bodies are laid out on a line. The line increases in length.

The war rages on. The line starts to wrap around the world.

The war rages on. The line heads toward the moon.

The war rages on. The line is past the solar system.

The war rages on. The line is in the cosmos.

— 3/5/2026