A Trivial Invasion

This is a short tale, much like the story of this world, and how entities, very much like us too, lived on a fragrant continent, and it's eventual demise.

There were many different groups living on this lovely brown crust of land. There were serenity and beautiful colours all round it but it's inhabitants could not live in harmony with each other, and constant squabbles over territories could always be heard. Despite their odd differences, they all had a common love: that of alliteration. And each group thought their own as far superior than others. That perhaps, was also why they could never get along.

This day, they all had an oppressive premonition of an end. Their end. The temperatures rose steadily and all the different groups felt like they were grilled, literally hearing the crackling ambers in the fire, and different groups falling over each other and melting away. The once peaceful land shook with great force. An earthquake, they thought. And the lands, split and tremors terrified them.

This day, they witnessed many of their own and others disappear, wrenched away forcefully. It was too late for regrets now, over all the disunity and squabbles they had. The first to be martyred went in the most horrible way, they thought. Melted and sizzled out. Those poor souls were one at last at least, melted and sticking to each other even in death- the Conspicuous Cheese Clan.

Just when others thought they had withstood the heatwave and the earthquake, they faced another threat. A threat hungry for their sacrifice. In our terms, perhaps it might be well to call it an alien invasion. Each time it strikes, the sun is blotted out, and breath of stale air rushed upon them. Would anyone be spared?

The Sassy Salami Sect were torn to pieces. Neither were the Organic Olives Organization spared. Chunks of land were taken away by the great alien. Ripped and disappeared entirely. Swallowed up. The proudest of them all, the Anchovies Association, were not spared either. The last to stand their grounds, the fiercest group known as the Ham Henchmen, tried to fight. Feebly. Like the others, they were torn and swallowed up in the great darkness that fell on them all. All but the most unappealing, ugliest group: the Capsicum Corp. Their fate was perhaps more enviable. They were picked out, spat out and left alone. What a cost, this great calamity. Being survivors was not a thrill. They no longer had a land of their own to live on, and where were they to go?

Often, no matter the price, it is always the darkest before dawn and as surely as the sun rises, there is always hope. With a massive burp, the alien leaves, deserting the unappetizing. For now.