Alyssa Lavrineneko

Sometimes I wonder what the end of the world will feel like.



When I imagine a bang I imagine my Aunt’s dishes crashing to the linoleum of the kitchen all at once

The china she saved for things like Christmas

Things like my younger sister being born

Things like

the end of mankind?

I imagine as we listen to the final chapter of our story

courtesy of the news channel

she will wish she used them more

For things like Supper

For things like my cousin scoring two home runs.  



When I imagine our world filling with quiet I imagine us

at my great grandfather’s deathbed

thinking about Promise

thinking about Fate

to assure our callow minds that there is

in fact

an epilogue

(Late 90s)

(He had many books)

(He went with ease)

Everyone expected it but only in a fictional sense

We say things like Everyone dies


the truth is

we all have at least a fraction of a trace of a glimmer of hope that it won’t



When I imagine the lights switching off I imagine we will all be running through routine

at grocery stores

buying milk

thinking about what the boy you like had said to you at school earlier and over-the-elementary-school-desk whispers like what to wear on Thursday and who likes who

We’ll tell each other stories

stories about empty diners and a ghost jukebox

Mio Amore by the Flamingos on repeat as we sway in milk light at dusk

milk skin

one hand intertwined with another

(Take my heart and my soul)

(Our love will never run cold)


This is what it will feel like when we die.