It couldn't happen, could it?

Most days I stop to think about how nice it is to be alive. And conscious. At this very moment. Even if the world seems filled with zany events. Like the presidential election campaign. And all the characters involved. And the sagging economy. And people screaming about the falling sky. And the possibility that some day a Sarah Palin could become president of the United States. By a freak set of circumstances. And that no matter how hard I tried, I'd never be able to devise a more scary story. Not even Edgar Allan Poe could be scarier. I'd just want to live to see the end of this story. To see what happens to America. It must be something horrible. But then I'd try to tell myself, it ain't real. It couldn't happen, could it? --Jim Broede