The Rain Song

I have given in to the torrential rains and have begun to build an ark.

It is clear now that God finally noticed us again and has, once again, decided to drown us. It has rained non-stop for what seems like seven years now. The state of Massachusetts is in a state of emergency. The roads are gone and the rails are cracking. The powers that be have dammed the subway.

There is no escaping it. The great flood has come and we stand in its way. God have mercy on us all.

Because my apartment is on the sixth floor, I should be able to survive beyond the point where most of of the people on earth will die. In fact, because I have an endless supply of Chewy granola bars and raisins, I should make it through the 40 days and 40 nights of rain with a little luck and a prayer.

At that point, repopulating the Earth should be our first concern and order of business. Because of this, I regret to inform my readership that only females aged 20-29 will be allowed access into my apartment to save themselves. Baking experience preferred.

All other applicants are advised to look for alternate accommodations. Otherwise, you'd cramp both my apartment and my style.