The night is coming. The night that will never end.
Board the windows. Lock the doors and push our beautiful, heavy bookshelves against them. Hopefully we prepared enough, we stocked up on canned peas and sacks of potatoes and stacks of mass market paperbacks and hardbacks, some of them used and old and bound in cloth rather than shitty cheap crappy cardboard.
Outside, the wind howls like a cliched banshee scream.
They are coming, and we fear it will not matter how well we prepared, for they come on silent wings, their numbers are legion, and they don’t use doors, or windows. Like dire fairies of data they come through the walls, through the very air itself, at the speed of light.
And they want to eat. “BOOOOOOKS….” they moan. Because they want to eat our books, all our beautiful books.
The ebooks have escaped the labs. OH. MY. GOD. Continue reading