Raised under the dim bubble of devout fundamentalism,Josiah Hesse recalls a childhood filled with gloom, doom and preparing for the end of the worldOne stormy night in the summer of 1992, and I walked down the basement steps of my parents’ house to await the apocalypse. The Iowa air was thick with humidity,the ominous green sky prophesying a tornado. My 10-year-old hands trembled as I laid out my inventory: animal crackers, juice boxes, and a Bible,and every sharp knife in the kitchen.
My parents were domestic late and my first thought was that they’d been raptured up to heaven. I was a sinner who had been left behind to face the soil’s destruction. Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com