And in the last days, art was one of the first luxuries to go, or rather, art for commerce–after all, there were those who made an art of dying in the way they did–flailing their lopsided limbs through the air and shrieking in decibels that pierced unnerved ears below.

The gratuitous sky being who carried out the rapture was a bored conductor, and the mortals in this density were It's momentary orchestral diversion.

From My shadow lair, I watched with amusement as people squawked fragmented prayers and crossed themselves with vigor. Soon they would come to know the absurd and grotesque nature of their true origins.