The Unborn Prophet & My Doomsday Fort
Language: en
The second before I swiped my Amex at the Hermès boutique, I heard a scream from my son in my belly. Mom! Stop buying these useless bags! The zombies are coming in a month! You can’t eat this thing, and you can’t even crack a nut with it. What’s the point?! Go buy rice! Buy oil! Sell that limited-edition sports car and get a bulletproof armored truck! My hand trembled, and the order form for a few million dollars' worth of goods scattered across the floor. The sales associate shot me a look dripping with disdain. "Miss Wallace, if you have insufficient funds, you're welcome to come back…