The Outlook

Panglossian – adjective

[pan-glos-ee-uh n, –glaw-see-, pang-]

  1.   characterized by or given to extreme optimism, especially in the face of unrelieved hardship or adversity.

meteor – noun


  1. a meteoroid that has entered the earth’s atmosphere.
  2. a transient fiery streak in the sky produced by a meteoroid passingthrough the earth’s atmosphere; a shooting star or bolide.

     3.  a piece of rock or metal that burns and glows brightly in the sky as it            falls from outer space into the Earth’s atmosphere

4.  any person or object that moves, progresses, becomes famous,                        etc.,with spectacular speed.


“ARMAGEDDON IS COMING!” screamed the anchorwoman during the Special Report. She didn’t even stay calm. ZZZZZZT. There goes the television.

My heart races. Mom, Dad and Lewis are at his basketball game. I’m stuck at home with Lucy because I’m sick.

“Hey little guy. So you know, I am the most recommended babysitter in this town. Everyone asks for me. BTW, I’m twelve,” she said when she walked in the door earlier.


“Lucy, do you think that was real?” I ask.

“Just a minute my cute little guy, I’m checking my cell phone.”

Ugh! I hate that she calls me ‘little guy’.

“I’m ten you know and you’re only two years older than me.”

Just because I am the smallest kid in my class doesn’t give her the right to call me little.

“Aw little guy, you are so cute. I could just smother you in kisses and put you in my pocket and keep you there forever,” she says smacking her lipsticked lips. Doesn’t even look up from her phone. Fingers flying over the keys she ‘Uh huh’ed and ‘Oh man’ed.

I  hate her. “Your hair is the color of dung,” I said.

“LOL. Aren’t you sweet? Here you are, sick as the dickens and still a little sweetheart. Just trying to make me feel better in a crisis. It’ll be okay my little Tommy. We’ll be together for eternity after this, don’t you worry.” Smack, smack, she gives me two kisses on my cheek.


Either she is Panglossian or totally clueless. I’m going with clueless.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. “This is the emergency alert system. A meteor is heading for earth and expected to hit the entire Midwest region by ten o’clock tonight. Take cover the best you can or evacuate if possible. The following states are directly in it’s path: Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Missouri and Tennessee. States bordering this section may be affected as well.”

“LUCY! LUCY! There’s a meteor coming to hit us,” I yell running down the hall. She’s not in the living room where I left her. I run to the kitchen, she’s not in there. I run to the basement, not there either.

I dial Mom’s cell. No dial tone. I wish I had my own cell phone. Well, at least Lucy’s not here bugging me anymore.

The worst that can happen is that everyone is obliterated from the entire Midwest part of the country, me and my family included. Best case scenario, it changes course and breezes past earth blowing into trillions of pieces that float in the galaxy. And the in between, we all become zombies.

(An hour later)

“Tommy, we’re home honey. Are you okay?” I hear as the back door slams into the wall.

“Lewis, a little easier on the door next time,” my Dad says.

Snap, my head jerks up. I blink several times.

I run to my Mom and hug her tight. “I’m so glad you guys made it home before ten. The meteor will hit anytime.”

“What meteor twerp?” Lewis asks snickering.

“I heard the Special Report. Lucy left a while ago. I’m guessing she wanted to be with her family too.”

“Twerp must have a high fever.”

“Who’s Lucy?” Mom says breaking out of my hug to feel my forehead.

“The babysitter.”

Dad, “Why would you have a babysitter, you’re ten.”

I shake my head.

‘Are you ready kids? AYE AYE CAPTAIN!’

“Lewis, put the news on,” Dad says moving into the living room.

‘Tonight is the last night for viewing the Perseid meteor shower. Coming up next in sports, local high school basketball team earns their way to State.’

I walk in by Lewis and Dad. Reality starts to make it’s way into my fuzzy brain. I yawn.

“Who left red lip marks on your cheek young man?”

Wait! what?!







2 thoughts on “The Outlook”

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