girlordinary

I found this in one of the first issues of Nerve magazine... I had cut it up and pasted parts of it into a journal.... I really like this short story. If I knew who wrote it - I'd credit.
I didn't write it though - I think that's the important part.

...And Jennifer Platt is sitting here right next to me, her own parents out of town somewhere, and she walked over from her house, not even knowing how things were going in the world, her being the silliest, hottest, sweetest girl God ever created. And now she sits beside me, me of all people, with my face breaking out and my hair geeking around on my head, and her long daisy-blond hair is rippling down her back and her big blue eyes are wide with terror, turned up to the TV watching Dan Rather mopping at his eyes with a handkerchief, and she's making a little choking sound in her throat.
"Is this, like, for real?" she finally manages to say.
"Yes," I say. "It's all over, Jennifer. Life on planet Earth."
"Aren't there supposed to be horsemen or whatever?" she says.
"Horsemen?"
"Like in the Book of Revelations?"
She's looking at me now in a way she never has. She's got nobody else. Her eyes are as blue as the sky that's about to disappear for a year or so in the nuclear winter and they are still wide with how wonked-out she is. These eyes are turning to me for guidance, but I never have listened very close to the prophecies and stuff that Pastor Lynch has been trying to explain. I've been too busy watching Jennifer Platt and thinking I didn't have a shot in the world at her and praying that I was wrong. God does answer prayer. I can finally testify to that.
I say, "Nobody ever knew what that horsemen stuff meant. Now it's clear. God's brought us together to cleave unto each other." I like that, "cleave." I think I've absorbed more in this place than I realize.
Her eyes widen a little bit more. "What are you saying, Alvin?"
"I'm like the horseman."
"Pardon me?"
"To carry you away."