Simon rolled out of bed. It was going to be one of those days. Not the type of day which is totally bland and useless. Not even one of those days when everything goes wrong.
Just…one of those days.
Opening the refrigerator door, Simon noted the lack of a lightbulb in the socket over the sink.
“Of course.” The milk expired two days ago, except for in New York.
Toast, then.
He crunched contentedly on his burnt toast, washing it down with black coffee. Something was gnawing at him, not unlike a hungry feeling deep inside of him. Maybe it was the fact that it was Wednesday? Perhaps because he was supposed to put out the garbage?
Glancing at the calendar, Simon was at last able to place that feeling in the pit of his stomach. December 19, 2012.
The day before the world expired.