God's Snowball

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.


The prompts: This story must contain the words: snowball, icicle, mittens


God's Snowball

God’s Snowball.

That’s what the headlines had called it when the government first admitted we were in for a close call.

They’d kept it a secret for as long as possible, but word got out. A chunk of ice the size of Manhattan was going to pay us a short visit – a sort of celestial drive-by.

“Nothing to worry about.” That’s what they’d said. Most believed them. Why not? It wouldn’t come closer than a hundred miles to the planet’s surface.

There were actual Snowball parties set up for the event. Ice would be trucked in and people were supposed to dress up as if it were winter – ski caps, mittens, the works.

I knew better and that was just my bad luck.

While others were preparing to party hard, I went to work. My team and I made up the world-wide DNA library project. We collected DNA samples of everything and stored them underground. Why? Well, suppose a giant snowball came along …

It has been three months since the announcement. Only four more hours to go. Two-hundred and forty minutes until the next ice age.

How I longed for the bliss of ignorance.

I sit at my desk sipping Maxwell House. Below ground, my precious samples are safe. Maybe someday, someone or something will find them and rekindle whatever sparks remains in their double-helix coding.

Three, two, one …

It’s time.

The room begins to shudder causing my coffee cup to spill. I sit waiting for the cold which comes on like a freight train. A small coffee icicle hangs from the table. It strikes me as funny and for some reason, I want to reach out and break it off; just for a little taste. Good to the last drop they say. Good to the last…

Word count 300