...that Would’ve Ended the World
There was a day
pressed tight inside the calendar,
a day that could have folded
everything we know
into ash and glare.
It waited in the dark
of that metal room,
held in the breath
of men who felt the heat rise
and thought the order
might follow soon.
The world above
moved through its routines—
children at school,
workers on shift,
roads humming with traffic—
no one sensing how near
the edge had come.
Down below,
the choice hung heavy,
ready to split the sky
if the wrong hand moved.
A single moment
poised to turn
every familiar street
into something unrecognisable.
But the day passed.
Not with triumph,
not with any bright sign,
just a quiet holding
that kept the world
from slipping into fire.
And so the day remained
what it had always been—
ordinary, unbroken—
its darker path
left unwalked,
its ruin kept
in the realm of might-have-been.
.