April 31st

Today is April 31st. Exactly a month ago, the world changed.

There was no warning. You would think the end of the world would come with a warning.

Okay, the world hasn't actually ended. The sun still rose and set. The wind still blew. The grass still grew.

It just can't be cut using anything electric. Not that HOA violations were a concern. At all.

Basic survival has replaced arguments on X and updating insta.

There wasn't even a noise. Just the kind of quiet that comes when every TV, radio, computer, phone, tablet, stove, coffee pot, every light, electric vehicle, every single thing that runs on a circuit, stops at the same time.

The confusion is instant. People look out their doors and windows to see if their neighbors power has gone out too. Couples got into arguments with each other over whether the bill was paid.

Lives were lost. It was inevitable in a society that relied so heavily on electricity for daily life. The old ways were forgotten.

Ventilators and other critical medical services that could no longer access power caused a lot of them. More came from fires started in fireplaces that had been more for show before the tragedy. Electric vehicles that had stopped without warning caused accidents. 911 calls didn't get through to call centers whose computers are black.

It takes a few days before they understand what has happened.

A series of EMP’s, set off by a terrorist cell embedded deep in the government, caused all of America to return to the 1800’s.

At first they didn't know what had happened. A generation raised on social media and older ones who remembered the news only coming from the three networks, they turn to the older people, the ones who remember radios and newspapers.

These elders pull out dusty ham radio kits and teach their suddenly eager grandchildren and great-grandchildren how to use them.

At first the news was spotty. The president was a member of Gen x., the youngest person to ever hold that office. He uses, or used the same tech as his youngest constituents. His military liaison suggested the same ham radios that are being pulled out of attics and sheds.

He knows that it is country wide. The CIA says it isn't an external enemy. The FBI sadly reports that it has originated from the most radical environmentalist in the government.

Old vehicles, those that have long been stored in government garages, are pulled out, checked, filled with gas and sent out to pick them up from across the country.

This was reported to the eager country. Those who hadn't caught his address are informed by their neighbors and relatives.

Just that fast, another lost or almost lost form of communication is restored as people across the country start communicating face to face again.

Those who know how to use a typewriter are in high demand as his speech is typed up and posted in store windows.

Slowly the word spreads, even without the Internet.

“I told you! I told you they were insane!”

“Seeing to the world is important. They just took it too far.”

“We need public hangings.”

“Maybe it is better. Time for Mother Nature to heal.”

Those are just a few samples of what was heard in every street. Whispered or shouted in every home, every pub, every church.

Shock. For the first few weeks, the country is in shock. It takes time to come to the reality that this is life now.

As the adults gather to plan for the future and talk of the past, the children rediscover the outside. With no game consoles, no TV shows, no phones or computers, trees are climbed again. Streams are explored. Sticks, once again, become swords and flowers are twisted into crowns.

They are unaware of all the consequences that their parents are trying to deal with.

“We need to learn how to cook without electricity.”

“That and how to heat houses.”

They sit around a living room lit by candles. It is a small neighborhood gathering. They don't have the luxury of living in a rich area. Not one generator is among them.

Outdoors, their children play hide and seek under the supervision of a few of the younger teens. The older ones have joined the adults.

“We have it better than those up the road guys.” They all stared at the 16 year old.

“Right.” The older man rolls his eyes.

“Think about it. They are used to all the comforts of life. We are used to struggling.”

His dad nods. “He is right.”

“We need to combine resources. How many of us have fireplaces? Have good first aid kits?”

“I see where he is going. I have a huge pantry and cellar.” One woman says.

“Our well has just been certified.”

“I still have my day care set up. I can watch the little ones while y’all get the plan together.”

“My mam ma knows how to use a wash board.”

Together, this small society in rural America, shows the rest of the country how to handle this catastrophe.

By working together, no one goes hungry, the children are entertained, everyone stays warm, and hydrated.

They learn from each other. The older teach the younger, while the younger help the little ones.

It isn't easy. There is a lot of suffering. There are also a lot of blessings. A community grows into an extended family. Despite the uncertainty, new babies are born, and several weddings happen. They lose a few of their members and grief together. Burials are done in the local cemetery. They employ ten of their strongest men to dig the graves.

One of the mothers, a teacher before the change, becomes the designated teacher for the children. They gather for a few hours a day around her huge dining room table. After, they join their parents and older siblings, either in the community work or, on most days, to play on the tires that are hung up as swings, swimming in the clear water in the pond, building snowmen in the winter or sledding.

The older residents can't help but smile as they see the young ones living the life they remember experiencing as young ones.

It is April 31st and the world has completely changed. For good or evil, you decide.