I am lying in bed waiting for the Apocalypse.
It is due fifteen minutes after midday.
We have been told these things before.
What do they know?
It is sunny outside though clouds are building.
There’s a piffle of a breeze rustling the bush outside my window though I notice it is picking up.
Could there be something in it?
Damn. There’s someone on the phone.
It’s Emily from my insurance company calling from interstate about a failed payment.
I question some details.
Just bear with me a moment, she says, as she scurries off to her superiors.
Don’t be long, I say. The Apocalypse is near.
I’ll put you on hold, she says.
Dogs whine, doors clatter, the sky darkens.
Just then ADT Security phones.
What is wrong with you people? Don’t you know the Apocalypse is nigh?
I go out to the verge, bring in the bins, look around. The winds have dropped.
All quiet on the western front.
Gus, the Jack Russel next door, barks at my presence.
It’s okay, buddy. It’s only me. And anyway it’s been postponed.
What has? it barks.
What the %$%&#.
Calm your farm, buddy. We get to live another day.
I go inside, wait for the next alert.