When I saw the misprinted greeting card at Walmart, I had to have it. It struck me as hilarious, so I bought it then and there, to show to my friends.
We all had a good laugh together.
Now it seems less funny. Large swaths of the city lay in ruin, and the fires burn still, with no one left to extinguish them.
It hovers above me, it’s massive wings beating so powerfully I can feel the wind they generate pushing me backward.
I’m paralyzed with fear, but I’m the only one with anything to offer it.
Happy Mothra’s day?