The Pole Shift

Sean's Vomit.

The tremors had picked up. Great cracking booms were heard throughout the world.  It seemed obvious to everyone the mantle was ready to roll.

                Sean whittled away at his lemon tree bow and watched TV.  Uninterested in anything outside his immediate pleasure zone.  American Documentaries were showing geological phenomenon from around the world.  There were enormous sink holes that had turned some landscapes into Swiss cheese. There were gaping rips in the earth that seeped magma, as if the Earth was cut and wounded. There were shaking seas, falling forests, and crumbling mountains.  There were the people,  there was much death amongst animals and Men. There were wars going on. People reported seeing glowing orange orbs floating in treelines, like chinese lanterns, but as big as cars.

                 Some places were closed off to the American cameras, China for one wanted nothing to do with the West as did many of the South American Countries. The enormous Andes could harbour millions from the expected flood. The Americans inferred 'The New Andeans' were bracing for the cataclysm with some hope, much like they had done in lost history.  "Lost history."  Snorted Sean, he put down his bow for a moment and yelled at the TV:

                "Stick to the fucking Rockies! You're going back to the stone age Yanks and you know you are! Your documentaries will be found by future civilisations and they will say, 'who are these pricks?'"   Sean was drunk, something he had managed to avoid for nearly a week, but it was Friday and that was like the starting gun as far as Sean and booze was concerned. He had got out of the blocks smartly.

                He awoke mid Saturday. His Lemon Tree Bow had taken on a peculiar curve.  He knotted it with a waxen string he had bought off EBay and whilst the short bow bent okay - he figured twenty pounds of pull, the arrows fired far from where he aimed. He looked over to the lemon tree stump that once rose and branched upwards, cradling a hundred lemony suns that were now beginning to rot on the lawn. He said:

                "I reckon it could kill." A tremor had been going on, he waved an arm at the Earth and then the air.  He dropped the bow on the lawn. The Pole Shift was about to happen he realised, what should he do? Someone would look after him, wasn't he special? He walked back onto the lawn and lay down. When he awoke again the stars were out. Was it evening stars or morning stars? Orion was leaping above him, morning stars. He watched satellites stride across the night sky.  The Earth rattled, he groaned and went inside, paused, swigged directly from a bottle of vodka then went to bed.

                Sean awoke, there was tremendous shaking. This is it, it has arrived, he thought. He clicked his dry tongue on the roof off  his mouth that told him he had been on a serious bender. It was probably Tuesday. He went to swing out of bed but was struck by a hammy fist. He flopped sideways back into bed.

                He was struck again and a woman's voiced hissed sharply:

                "Tape his mouth, they can probably see us, hear us, Christ he could have us killed!" Sean was roughly shutup with duct tape.  He had no idea what was going on, was this the Pole Shift? There were people in the room with him,  were they being thrown around too? He glimpsed the gingery locks of his ex wife. A large gut pushed him back down as he tried to rise.

                "Is it happening?" said Tom's fat brother. They were silent, looking through the bedroom window. The house began to shake, a subterranean crack boomed and upset their senses, so loud did it emit from the Earth's crust.

                "I think so! Get the kids get the kids!"  The fat man lumbered away, Sally remained with Sean, on her knees and wide eyed. Sean suddenly understood. His neighbours had made their move. He found a deep anger that burst through the affects of days of drinking and screamed through his taped mouth. His bloodshot eyes bulged, the cords in his neck strained as he pulled at the rope that hog tied him.

                "Stay still! It's happening!"  But the earth quake quietened to silence, the house settled. There was the odd crack from deep in the ground, but not like the immense boom that had stunned them. Sally's face looked bewildered, then scared. "Shit." She said. Sean was making a croaking sound, his eyes had relaxed as had his demeanour. He understood Sally thought she had timed her attack on him to perfection. There was commotion in the house, the kids came bundling into the room, they took one look at him and laughed. The adults converged in the bedroom as if they had snuck away from a party to snort coke. They were silent for a moment, then Tom said:

                "What do we do?" Sally sat on the edge of the bed, straining to hear if there was an approach , a siren, or the buzz of a drone.

                "We've made our move, we have to see it through. " Moments passed. Sean looked at them all, how weird it was, how surreal. He vomited. The sourness filled his mouth and he had to swallow it, he puked again, the bile had nowhere to go. He tried to swallow, but his body wanted to vomit again, His eyes went wide, his face red and he writhed. He was about to drown in his own sick. In one motion sally stood and ripped off the tape. They were all sprayed with a substance close to acid. Sean spluttered, took a deep breath then screamed:

                 "MACKA!"