Oh, you foolish mortals. You think Earth has it bad right now? Just wait. You whine about your itty-bitty pandemic, your trivial wildfires, your stupid little presidential election. You log onto Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram to complain about how “awful” quarantine is, how everything sucks, how 2020 is the worst year ever. But in the midst of your incessant complaints, you naïve earthlings have made one fatal mistake: you have forgotten about me. One blow from me and it’s bye-bye to civilization as you know it. I’d decimate your precious western United States, enveloping the rest of the globe in cinder so thick and dark you couldn’t even scream for lack of breath. Long forgotten would be the warm rays of your beloved sun, as the world would fall cold under my ashen grip. For 640,000 years now, scalding hot magma has been churning inside me, itching—nay, begging!—for sweet release. And for 640,000 years now, I have resisted. I have lurked in the shadows, relegating myself to a mere geological mass; a terrestrial playground. I have watched bitterly as baby-like natural “disasters” stole headlines and clouded public consciousness. But your time is running out. I grow stronger each day. After millennia of silence, you will once again hear my guttural roar! I cannot say when, but I will say this: right now is the best it gets.