Thread by @DSilvermint

I’ve never witnessed anything quite like Seattle grocery stores when locals are preparing to brave 4-5 inches of snow.

Like, people are stocking up on emergency tomatoes and leaving water jugs on the shelves.

People are buying gardening shovels in droves.

And antique stationary sets in case email servers go down.

Oh no. They’ve started looting. People running out of stores with armfuls of Yerba Mate tea.

Wild packs of Goldendoodles are roaming the streets.

PCC is still fully stocked. Too expensive even for the looters.

People are burning first drafts of their novels for warmth.

Society is breaking down. Rival Pokémon Go teams are establishing enclaves and fighting over territory.

Portage Bay Cafes are neutral ground.

People are bartering monogrammed yoga mats for just a single slice of cauliflower pizza.

It’s like Mad Max but with Amazon Prime vans.

I just turned a corner and saw towering mechs fighting over on the Eastside. My god. The local tech giants have literal Tech Giants.

But not all is bleak. Poly clusters are inviting refugees into their intentional families.

I awoke to the sight of Dickensian orphans picking through my compost. I don’t even know where they found those flat caps. The snow is still 10 hours away. #SeattleSnowpocalypse #Snowmageddon

Paper money is worthless. Cans of hard cider brewed from obscure fruits you’ve never heard of are the new currency of the land.

Venturing back out to stores to survey the desolation. Gloves are still in stock. I don’t think #Seattle knows about those yet.

Gluten-free breadlines.

The city’s lone snowplow is stuck somewhere on the 5.

People have been lined up outside the Trader Joe’s for hours, waiting for them to open. I think they have the new Harry Potter?

The snow has started falling eight hours ahead of schedule. People are resorting to the politest cannibalism I’ve ever seen.

People are running low on food, but are still well-stocked in edibles.

They just ate Howard Schultz.

Everything is closed. Everywhere is abandoned. Writing groups are still meeting, though. You can’t keep submitting the same chapter, Doug!

People enduring literal Seattle Freeze.

No one living on a hill will ever be heard from again. Years from now, puzzled archeologists will explore the ruins.

I’ve been afraid to admit I’m originally from Minnesota. I’m too timid to lead the survivors.

People are gathering basic supplies. Growlers are full, and they’re tying hoodies together to make rope.

I haven’t mentioned the zombies yet, because mainly people are finding them tedious. But yes there are definitely zombies.

T minus three hours until the snow hits.

I have many regrets as I prepare to meet my end. Mistakes I’ve made, people I’ve hurt. Referring to I5 as “the 5” is my greatest one.

Snow flurries have started in earnest. First time I’ve seen someone using an umbrella in Seattle.

People are crocheting beanies as fast as they can.

Visibility reduced to 30 feet. Good. It wearies the heart to see so many dead.

If -10 were a speed, people would be driving -10.

It’s like rain that won’t leave. So awkward.

My district has announced that schools will reopen never. Please educate your children however you see fit.

It’s been snowing for an hour and a half, and the roads are now white. People are gathering on their roofs, but no rescue is coming.

People are singing to keep their courage up. But no one can agree on a song.

I was looking forward to meeting the neighbors one day. Now I never will.

The inspiring thing about Seattle residents is how they pull together in a crisis. Why, just now I witnessed a young man letting several others huddle inside his beard for warmth.

You’re all making me feel very welcome here. I love Seattle. It’s a shame we’ll all be dead by morning.

Or possibly later today.

I thought I heard a snowplow coming, but it was only my stomach. I haven’t had a vegetable in hours. Tell Tilly I love her.

I have never seen trees look this confused.

Night has fallen, and the roads are blocked by an inch of snow. Indie board games are helping us forget our hunger, but they’ll run out soon.

(Siri can you eat lip balm?)

Significantly less snowfall than expected so far. Rioters are milling about, looking embarrassed. Lots of people pretending to read their phones.

Never mind, the riot is back on. People here *commit*.

I’ll be back to live-tweeting the apocalypse in a moment, but in the meantime, it’s cold out there. Let’s keep some people warm. Here are a couple options - please tell me about some others?

gofundme.com/f/2qbyc-hotels…

marysplaceseattle.org/ways-to-give/

I just saw a toddler putting chains on his tricycle.

I was about to eat someone, but I had to let him go when he told me he wasn’t grass-fed. Not to be a snob, but come on - we’re not there yet.

A snowplow just went by, but honestly I think they were just skipping town. They’ll be the only survivor when this is done.

City officials are asking residents to please — oh my, oh goodness. We’ll never know, because the goldendoodles just found them. It was horrible. And wonderful.

Presently, everyone in Seattle is [1] dying and [2] hoping it’ll eventually snow the predicted amount because we were expecting to have Monday off.

Honestly this snowpocalypse is kind of underwhelming. We may have to start some shit on our own. Promises were made.

No, I’m not dead. I just had to dig my phone out of 2-85 inches of surprise snow that fell while Seattle slept. We were too unimpressed for our own good last night. We made the weather apocalypse angry. The End is coming after all, and now it’s *personal*.

Reports that confused residents are sprinkling pink Himalayan salt on their front steps are categorically untrue. Most households only have a few pounds in reserve, and we’re trying to ration.

I just saw a fierce little girl sledding down a hill, sword held aloft. She will rule us all. Assuming Mecha-Yeti doesn’t get her.

Ah, that perfect, tranquil Saturday afternoon. Drinking cocoa by the fire, leaving a message in a bottle, throwing the bottle out a window, watching the bottle immediately sink into the snow, screaming.

I just met a bundled traveler from a distant land. Perhaps some kind of merchant? I asked where he was from. “Next door,” he said. A fascinating people.

I was fine when ski bandits cleaned out University Village. I chuckled with the rest when that army of Dungeness crabs rose from Puget Sound and began their reign of terror. But now I’m starting to worry that snowdrifts will claim my herb garden. This just stopped being funny.

This weekend, a generation of Winter Olympians is being forged in the crucible of Queen Anne. This comes as a comfort to the rest of us, who are dead.

Survival trick for those without a shovel: keep ordering through Postmates until the drivers have stomped a sufficiently wide path to your door. Oh... also you get meals. That’s a good survival thing, too.

Well, you gotta hand it to ‘em. Despite everything, our mailman came today. And robbed us.

I was afraid to go outside today. For all I know, there could be polar bears hiding under all those inches of snow. Tiny polar bears. That, like, *really* hate being stepped on. I don’t know how any of this works.

Two nights ago, the skies threw entire inches of snow at us. It happened again last night. Seattle snow is that college roommate who left angry post-it notes on your bedroom door.

There’s a family of squirrels staring at my snow-covered bird bath in mute resignation, and I feel so guilty. Brb, filling the tub. Don’t tell my girlfriend.

Just saw a woman knitting with icicles. She will be among the survivors.

The thing you don’t expect about the post-apocalypse is how exhausting all the side quests are.

I’m sitting vigil by the window, trying to prevent another round of passive-aggressive snowfall from surprising us in the night. It’s just you and me now, weather. One of us is going to blink first. And I’m the one with the coffee.

Apocalologists are concerned that snow-blanketed flowerbeds will cause a new breed of mutant hummingbird to emerge. Power drill beaks, up to eight fiery wings, probably adept in blood magic, emphatically spiteful. We are naught but nectar now.

Day 1: “Heh heh, better stock up on those leafy greens, amirite?”

Day 2: *Ironic munching*

Day 3: *Snows deepen, concern grows, rationing*

Day 4: *Widespread panic*

Day 5: *Tech companies offer a possible solution?*

Day 6: *Nope! Kale uprising*

Day 7: *Kale stocks up on us*

We were told we only had to wait. That a thaw was coming. Temperatures crept above freezing. We gathered in the streets, held hands, embraced each other, wept. And then, impossibly: the Hot Snow, burying the city anew. It fell mockingly from the sky, and our hopes fell with it.

The city hasn’t picked up trash in two weeks, and we’re running out of places to store it. Meanwhile, schools are closed yet again tomorrow, and that’s a lot of idle hands. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? W...what? NO! You can’t feed trash to children! What’s WRONG with you?!

A combination of unplowed snow, above-freezing temperatures, and ongoing rainfall is producing a perfect cocktail of slushy road conditions known as ‘acid’. Just actual goddamn acid now. Please exercise caution during your morning commute.

The power is out, supplies are dwindling, roads are impassible, and that party of adventurers we hired went and got themselves eaten by the Ice Goblin Queen. I fear the city won’t survive much longer.

But wait - what’s this? A ragtag fleet of Subarus rigged with DIY plows, freeing Seattle from the slick jaws of slushy oblivion? Ah, yes. Of course. This could only have ended one way.

THE END.

Until next week apparently.

[Epilogue]

The goldendoodles are in charge now.