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The world is ending

Jane had a premonition; the world would end at midnight. It came to her in between the act of chopping lemons and measuring sugar.

She would be lying in bed, the moonlight coming in softly through the open window to illuminate her body. She would be wearing her favorite red panties and a matching bra; her long brown hair tangled and spread out over the pillow. Her husband would be snoring softly next to her, curled up with the blankets around him. He was unaware. He would be happy. She would be lying on her back, completely awake, watching the ceiling. The world was a ticking time bomb, and she knew it.

Three.
Two.
One.

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