We are on a slow-mo plane crash to species extinction.
WATCHING THE APOCALYPSE BY ISMAIL IBRAHIM 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 68
I imagined a future where I would be a father. In the intoxicating moments between being awake and asleep, I slipped into a fantasy rife with pastoral images. In the fantasy I’m sitting on a back porch watching my daughters play. They run around the garden chasing each other, shrieking and laughing, muddying their clothes. They radiate the joy of children, that silly, light kind of happiness, so immense that it makes the scene golden.