Vignettes From the End of the World

Vignettes From the End of the World

by Jacob Haddon


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This is how the world ends.
This is how the world ends.
This is how the world ends.
Not in a bang, but in a book.

58 flash fiction stories of the final hours. Passion, pain and horror of the end of days, all in short vignettes.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781312564381
Publication date: 10/25/2014
Pages: 138
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.44(d)

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Vignettes from the End of the World 4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 2 reviews.
TheMouthsOfMadness_PCast More than 1 year ago
Do you relish in misery? Do happy endings raise your hackles because they are false? Cheats? Then this is a love letter to you. 58 micro stories about our final moments, 58 nightmares about the end of days. War, famine, disease, alien invasion... Say goodbye to your loved ones, pray that your faith holds up to its end of the bargain. Because when the sun sets, if it is allowed to set, the world as you know it is over. These are the tales that haunted me the most: -My Fathers Flannel by Essel Pratt -My Country Dies, The World Dies Later by T. Fox Dunham -Centered by Terry M. West -Ouija by Joey Capora
Mirtika More than 1 year ago
The end of the world can come by all manner of ways, some gentle, some horrific, some orgasmic. While not all are winners, some are quite well done. Some images found in this volume are fabulous. This one from the second story, “My Father’s Flannel,” a reflective one, enjoyable if a bit uneven in the tone of the narrator, one reminiscent of some retro tales I recall reading where the nuclear end, inevitable, doesn’t lead to panic or criminality, but acceptance and a bit of life flashing before one’s eyes before the… final flashing: “I realize my lighter is still inside. It doesn’t matter; the nuclear heat beats upon my searing face, its flames ignite my cigarette.” This is not the only story that is a rather quiet observance of global and near-instant disaster rushing toward the narrator, offering the opportunity to catch some key life point or revelation, or as one character says: “For a moment, I bordered epiphany.” When moments is all you have left to you, epiphany might be inevitable. Possibly my fave of the bunch, haunting for its dreadful surrealistic images and beautiful prose, where comma splices become art—“At the end of all things, there remains this: the battered circus train moving through a smudged charcoal world.” And “High above in the clouded sky that is never broken with sunlight, Gabrielle circles. She is a woman, she is a brown bat, she is both things at once.” And “The water fanned out, gray with the dead, blue with sorrow, edged in foam that tries to be white.”—is “Inland Territory, Stray Italian Greyhound” by E. Catherine Tobler. I need to look up this writer’s other work! A solitary woman on an outpost station on desolate planet witnesses the tardy visual proof of the apocalypse in “Tears on Vega” by Erik B. Scott. Yes, another favorite. It’s beautifully told and glows with grief and loneliness. I could see it all play out in my head: “Her telescope sat at the hill’s zenith in lonely anticipation of this day. Lydia was not sure whether the device really was casting humanoid-looking shadows or if it was just her subconscious wishing for some company.” Yet another favorite “Four Mornings” by Joana Eca de Queiroz brings us a plague of ennui “That night she sleeps in their bed, her side unsullied, him covered in the air-fresheners she didn't pay for, but the cashier never said anything anyway.” Other notables, ones that I went back and happily reread: “Broken Mirrors” by Jamie Lacky  “Blood Pearl” by Marie DesJardins “Rip” by Bryce Hughes  “All That We Need” by Sylvia Spruck Wrigley “Toward the Endlessness” by Jennifer Loring  “Chattanooga” by Leslianne  “Nothing Can See You” by S.R. Mastrantone “The Silk That Bind You” by Kelda Crich “Red Curtain” by K.Z. Morano What will you find inside, ideas-wise? Here’s a preview: --an astronaut becomes, literally, subatomically, the hand of death --lovers bare themselves to inevitable disintegration with joy --a man flies above grasping zombies and a pun is born --a sentient train and a bat-woman and a skeletal dog and hope --a person changed into a walking memorial of human history --a cranky survivalist not inclined to play Good Samaritan --a dead man walking looking for a place of final rest --the dead fall from the sky --the dreadful choice when a shelter only holds two, not three --the very last birthday celebration on earth --a rollercoaster ride to the end --a father’s love on the last day of light --the last wedding --the Lovecraftian finale --a watch that keeps a different time --an orgasmic send-off --the last zombie And more.