The morning news said the world would end tomorrow. A very important scientist was there to explain why, but I turned the sound off before he spoke. Aliens, asteroids, who cared why?

The world was ending.

My best friend called. “What are you planning to do?”

“Dunno,” I said truthfully. How could you spend the last day on earth? What could you possibly sum up, sort out in twenty-four hours?

“You could come to my place. Drinks. Party. Possibly hot guys.”

“Maybe later,” I said, and hung up.

My mother called. “Your father and I are going to a vigil. Come with us.”

Was prayer, blind faith and hopelessness, the way? Would that save us from the end? I considered. “Maybe later,” I said, and unplugged the phone.

The day passed. I ate. Showered. Did some laundry. Reread my favorite book. Darkness fell, and smiling, I knew what I wanted to do. The evening was cool as I set a lawn chair on my back porch, gathered drinks and snacks and a blanket around me.

I waited for the dawn.