This wasn’t her first apocalypse. Hell, it was at least her third today, but now those around her were freaking out. Yeah, things looked bad, but after all the stuff she had been through this latest meltdown was nothing. She pumped her shotgun with one hand and grinned. Today would either kill her or make her stronger. It was up to her to find out which. She threw open the door and the sun blinded her.
She bolted up in bed as the window shade spun. The stupid thing must have decided to coil up on its own. She took stock of her situation. She was relieved that the world wasn’t going to end, but there was something about being a badass that she felt was missing.
Suddenly there was a scream, a crashing of something downstairs, and then someone crying hysterically. Okay, so this would be her fourth apocalypse today, but she had this. She just wished she still had the shotgun.
The car wept radiator fluid as it lay broken after trying to wrap itself around the tree. The tree bent forward; its branches tenderly caressing the top of its crumpled one night stand. Two things, one created and one grown, found a moment of love in time of tragedy. As the snow draped the scene in a mind numbing white blanket, the only person to witness the joining of tree and car gently cooled; his last thoughts were of love and love lost. The tree finished collapsing onto the car as sirens in the far distance wailed for the tragedy.