4.
The morning is sunny,
The evening punctuated
with a quiet pink sunset
She sits on a soft leather couch
surrounded by red golden embroidery
She is sipping green tea
between bites of spicy noodles.
She is imagining this is a memory-
impossibly plush, clean, luxurious
When she is looking back someday,
when the world has gone mostly
in flames
and she is huddling
in ashes, maybe
or under the black hulk of a tree
If it comes
it will be quite suddenly
no pundits
no advance warning
but a sudden rush of hot air
the windows shaking
her voice, inexplicably
rising in a scream.
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