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I looked at you at the end of the world
In the fading light of the dying sun.
You took in the sky, one last time,

"It feels like we had just begun."

You and I, we're getting a little tired.

The world keeps ending, hinting that it’s almost through
So we've been bracing for impact, it's only natural that
If I'm going, I want to be gone with you.

The sirens blare, and they never stop
Bridges burn, people run amok
We watch with empty eyes
I suppose it's no surprise.

A clean end would be too good to be true.

I looked at the hazy sky above
The inky blues with the fractured pinks
"We might still make it," I said,
And you laughed
The slow sad sound of broken things.

So we've been running, I've been
Holding out hope. You drive over —

Shattered glass
Bird bones
A book on gardening

— I'm starting to choke.

You say we're getting there
(there's nowhere left to go.)

But I'd follow you anywhere, the heavens know.

Would it be alright, to leave unseen
When the world burns like a movie scene?
Quiet
Unknown
With the last good, forgiving, breeze.

Together, till the end, in silent seas.

I will hold your hand when the tides start to swell
And hope you are holding on
(they say I do it well)
And we'll brave the siege, awash.
The waves crest and crash —

Salt water on skin
Until it seeps within.



Shreejita Majumder can usually be found typing away on her laptop, or spinning stories in her head while walking along the busy streets of Kolkata. Poet, artist, writer, keeper-of-sparrows, and plant-whisperer, she has recently completed her Master’s degree in English literature. Her work can be found on Instagram @tireless_hope and she’s on Twitter @ennuinox.
Current Issue
20 Jan 2025

Strange Horizons
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  In this episode of the Strange Horizons Fiction podcast, Michael Ireland presents Michelle Kulwicki's 'Bee Season' read by Emmie Christie Subscribe to the Strange Horizons podcast on ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Spotify.
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