The Final Premonitions

There are peals of thunder, getting ever closer. Brief flashes of lightning blind those who are unprepared. They will see again in due time. The tall man dressed all in white carries a small box across the threshold, and enters a room which dwarfs him. He places the box carefully on a silver table, and leaves the room walking backwards. The good boy helps his mother until everything is finished. He is the last to leave the library, the door locks automatically... The thunder is upon us. It's the same story we've heard before but this time we're living it. The fear of earthquakes is genuine. People touch the earth just to be certain. Some claim to have found seams which are opening. Others look up into an empty sky with blind eyes, and stretch out their arms in a mute appeal. To whom are they appealing? The prophet who lives next door shakes his head. He looks fixedly at the earth, and says without emotion, 'It's the same old story: We are the most ancient bloodline. Our responsibilities are manifold. We must drink the whole cup of milk before it turns into blood.' Lightning punctuates his words. He gropes forward, with apparent purpose, past a barn with no animals. They have a sixth sense and left weeks ago. Their whereabouts is unknown... The earth is rumbling. Has the time of earthquakes arrived?