The Last Straw

Humans.

I've always hated them.

From the moment I first heard their tiny voices shout to the sky, "Me!" to the most recent angry footstep vainly trying to stamp an immortality into the ground I have loathed their very existence. 

I have tried, using my not inconsiderable might, to do away with them.

Who do you think causes the tsunamis, the cyclones, the most devastating earthquakes?  

Recently some humans have attempted to match my destructive power which only further reenforces their need of extinction.

They started it.  The gloves are off.
I, the Earth, do not take well to rivalry.

Writer's Schlock Cafe

This coffee shop is nice.

There is good coffee in the mugs, trendy hipsters looking smug, and corpses on the counter. 

There is brown sugar in the jar, full cream jugs on the bar, and battery in the basement. 

Not everything is perfect of course. 

I am having trouble writing.
Something is distracting me. 

Is it the remarkable lack of regicide that lends an air of dignity to my normal haunts? 

Is it the palpable absence of perjury that lulls me into an uncomfortable ease?

This coffee shop is nice,

But I was hoping for something a bit more atrocious.