The Red Tide: Stalin Strikes First

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I was buried alive… a nightmare come true. Apparently a living nightmare; I think, therefore I’m alive; a Descartian paradox. I was cold, it was dark and I was feeling nothing. For the moment feeling nothing was good. No explosions or shouting and no danger. Yes, most of the time now nothing was life. I was alive because of nothing, yet would also die because of nothing. Eventually nothing means a lack of food, water and even air.

I could feel panic starting to spread throughout my body. It was another sign that I was still alive, wasn’t it? Is this what death is, blackness, silence, nothing? No, they had not killed me yet. God knows they’ve tried. Was it possible that it was over? I think not. So many times before I thought the end was near and so many times, it wasn’t.

My life, up to now, has caused millions of people to have nothing, to lose everything. I suspect that they would have died of nothing anyway if I had not existed, just not so soon or as quickly.

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