When the dead outnumber the living they will spill forth from purgatory and come back to
reclaim their condos. They will take back their steak knives, they will uncork your
vinegared wines and ask why you paid good money for this shit. They will make you start
over as their slaves, building a new tomorrow from the ground up thinking this time
everything will be different. In their honour, you will be forced to build the ultimate
condo, a tower over the land that blocks out the sun and kills the neighbourhood grass.
The dead will reside there, and the living will serve the dead. They will make you play
Yahtzee and sustain you with watered down Tang. You will dither away your time
perfecting complicated drink orders and complimenting them on how hip they are until
they die from the boredom of being and staying thin.
When the dead finally fall apart, you will have to clean up the mess. The condo will be left
as a monument for the twice dead.
Then the sands will part and swallow it whole.