Jesus Wept, Godzilla Slept

The seas were silent. The aircraft carriers. The destroyers. The submarines. All were in port.

Not that many noticed or cared, but it happened nonetheless.

And although North Korea threatened to resume missile tests, it was a hollow boast, just like so much of everything else that came out of the mouths of Kim. Or Putin. Or the Ayatollah. Or Netanyahu. Or Modi. Or Trump.

In fact, all the geopolitical game play that had governed world affairs for the past century had suddenly and inexplicably ended.

Not that many noticed or cared, but it happened nonetheless.

The smog had even lifted over Beijing and New Delhi and Mexico City and Los Angeles. The canals of Venice were clean, and the deer and the coyotes had ventured out of their forest homes to explore the suburban streets of America.

It was so quiet, in fact, that at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, just off the coast of Japan, Godzilla slept a much needed slumber.

For the moment at least, the people of the world didn’t need to be reminded that they are helpless in the face of Mother Nature and her dutiful angel of death, the King of the Monsters.

And so Godzilla rested in the cold darkness of the sea, and the sound of his beating heart could be heard on the empty streets of Tokyo.

Not that many noticed or cared, but it happened nonetheless.

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