Have you ever been to your local twenty-four hour super
center late at night? I’m talking like 2 a.m. when most of the world is asleep.
Somehow when this happens to me I find myself in the sporting goods section
looking at tennis balls. I don’t play tennis.
Inevitably you wind up in a corner of the store and you are
all alone. Not just alone in the aisle, alone in the whole store. You can’t
hear anything and that white noise of a busy store we are all so used to is
magically gone. I start to worry that maybe the store closed and they didn’t
know I was in there. I missed the sign saying it was inventory night and they
would be closed from two until six.
As I walk through the store I peer down each aisle. I’m not
sure if I want to see someone or if I fear seeing someone. I seriously consider
putting my things down and just walking out of the store. Then the unknown causes
my mind to race. What if the building was evacuated and in my tennis ball
trance I missed the announcement? What if there are armed robbers rounding up
the other shoppers and employees so they can steal anything of value? The
possibilities of the unknown far more frightening than anything I can see with
my eyes or hear with my ears.
This is the feeling that inspired me to write The Seamus Chronicles.
I enjoy stories about asteroid impacts and nuclear Armageddon but what if it
was a quiet apocalypse? No explosions, no epic battles and no widespread
destruction. As the survivors travel around seeking resources and other
survivors are they hopeful or fearful that they will find someone? As a stay at home dad I also wanted to write an exciting and suspenseful story that would still receive 5 stars on the +Alyssa Auch cleanliness scale.
What do you think? Could a quiet apocalypse create a pit in your stomach?