Dear Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia:

My great aunt recently died and left me her antique  armoire, the same armoire that my sister had always commented on and pretty much coveted from the time she was old enough to care about such things. I told her she could have it but no, no, she said, Berta left it to me, all’s fair, right? Wrong. I can’t prove it but I swear the small but deep scratch in the cabinet door wasn’t there before the last time she and her family were over. I’m not saying it was her because she could have bribed one of her ingrate kids to do it. But I don’t know what to do. Should I confront her about it or just pay to have it fixed and never speak to her again?

CONFLICTED

Dear Conflicted:

When the Earth’s core temperature reaches 12,000 degrees Fahrenheit,  dismantling the magnetic field and leaving the planet exposed to the Sun’s  unfiltered radiation, the oceans will evaporate and the reserves of boiling oil beneath the crust will explode to the surface. Those still alive to see the great lakes of petroleum aflame will sing briefly of their vicious beauty.

Dear Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia:

My mom is soooo annoying!! I just know that when she dies she’s going to hell and somebody’s going to be standing over her shoulder like every second reading her text messages and saying who’s Evan? what’s that mean? why don’t I ever get the emoticon with the winky face?

4COL

Dear 4COL:

For the next century the few scabby but callused survivors and their descendents will tread ground as brittle as the graham cracker pie crust from the days of yore. They will search for a new water source with which to impregnate the stagnant soil. In the meantime they will learn to eat ash and wear clothes made of bone and hope.

Dear Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia:

Apparently it’s not common knowledge in today’s society that you don’t just plop yourself and your g.d. Macy’s bag in the middle of the escalator. If spending the day shopping for a juicer you’ll never use turns you into a mouth-breathing lunk, park it off to the right so the rest of us who aren’t slaves to automation can move past you on the left. Do you think it’s better to start a petition to change state law and require all public escalators have the rules posted, or should I just post them myself and write off the expenses on my taxes?

ESCALATING

Dear Escalating:

1,ooo years after the core and crust fires have erased the old, a new civilization is born. People are divided into colony-pods based on smell and ruled over by a tyrannical elite odorless class. A brighter future soon looms, however, when a headstrong young heroine from Mentholated Lint and a delinquent young buck from Forgotten Broccoli embark on a perilous search of the outer wastelands for the Missing Stink: the one entity that could unite the tribes and lead them in rising up against their scentless masters.