The Day the World Stopped Turning

The day the world stopped turning,
a different sort of silence descended from the skies.
No one bothered to watch the telly although the event was covered live.
In some ways it was an ordinary day just like any other,
except traffic wardens were joyriding
and no one cared about climbing the property ladder.

And as we waited for death without a word of protest,
the London and New York stock exchanges became temples of tranquillity.
Suicide rates were remarkably low but very few pubs were empty.
People started smoking again and forgot about their diets.
Vegetarians pigged out on bacon and Cliff Richard popped his cherry.

No one manned the call centres except a couple of under managers.
Meteorologists forecast a long dark winter
and there was no morning rush hour.

No technology was upgraded and no one went to war.
People shared their innermost secrets but no one gossiped anymore
and although we collectively lost our pride many found a vestige of self respect.
No language in the world could do it justice, although Richard and Judy did their best,
and Elton John wrote a song to befit the occasion,
but no CD was ever pressed.

The bottom fell out of organised crime and the prisons opened early
and while yuppies locked themselves indoors and took solace from Paul McCartney,
the bookies put odds on anyone surviving at five billion to one,
whilst therapists in Los Angeles sat their clients down and told them they were scum.

The gun lobby felt powerless, but survivalists were delighted.
People with dementia forgot they were going to die
and had to be constantly reminded.

The paparazzi deserted celebrities and left them feeling lonely.
Politicians everywhere admitted they were lying
and then went home to spend time with their families.

The UN found itself helpless again but neighbours became friends,
and the advertising industry was racking its brains right until the very end,
but nothing was for sale because nothing was worth buying
and you can’t put spin on a world that isn’t turning.

Everyone’s debts were cancelled and lifestyle became redundant;
sceptics prayed frantically to save their souls,
and the tabloids became indignant,
and launched a last minute campaign to find someone to blame,
whilst trying not to feel upset about a blue green planet swollen with regret,
people flocked to see one last sunset,
but the sunset never came.

No one had any illusion of redemption or survival,
and for all the talk of sexual abandon
all most folk wanted was one last cuddle.
Long lost lovers were reunited,
but became distracted in their thinking,
and God breathed a tremendous sigh of relief
on the day the world stopped turning.

And when it came,
it was like a warm breeze blowing through knackered old bones
that swallowed your soul.
The sky came down and the sun shone brighter
as we took a deep breath and slid back beneath the water.

In a way it felt like a privilege to be there at the end
and maybe one day we’ll do it all over again;
but if anyone ever hears about this they might benefit from learning
that we lived our lives more than ever before
on the day the world stopped turning.

By Rob Gee