my laptop until 3AM, raving on forums while Kate was waiting for me to keep her warm in bed. I managed to convince myself that I'd just gone a little crazy. Meeting Paul just days before he took his own life had sent me off the deep end, and Kate was helping pull me back to dry land.
Gradually, day by day, week by week, I spent less time trying to convince people that the world was going to end and more time enjoying the world I had now. Kate made me forget it all. She made me forget my plan to leave the city for a shack out in the woods. She made me set aside my plan to learn how to shoot, trap game, filter water and dress a wound with my eyes closed. She made me forget everything but those cute little dimples that appeared whenever she smiled.
Looking back, this was a pretty fucking huge mistake.
Dimples aren't worth shit at the end of the world.
April 7th, 2019
It's the rain that wakes me. Thick, heavy drops, bouncing like ball bearings against the window above the bed. It sounds like it's gusting outside, pushing the rain in sheets so it falls unevenly on the glass... tap, tap, tap, tap, taptaptaptap, tap, tap, tap, tap, like a sudden flurry of applause.
I crack open one eye and crane my neck to the old fashioned alarm clock on the bedside table, a black cast iron beast with a scrap of sponge squeezed beneath the bell to muffle the alarm. It's just after eleven in the morning. I roll on my back and stretch, grinning to myself as I remember it's Saturday. Nothing to do today but watch TV in my underwear until Kate gets home from work. Maybe I'll cook. Nah. Maybe I'll just order pizza. It feels like a pizza day.
taptaptaptaptaptap.
I feel something wet and cold splash against my cheek, and I look up at the window to find it's cracked open a few inches. With each gust a little spray finds its way through the gap to my bed. It's kinda nice. Brooklyn has been unseasonably warm these past few days, and we don't have any aircon in this old place. It's nice to be woken by a cool shower and that strangely pleasant smell of city rain. Musty and damp, but oddly refreshing.
I reach out to hunt for the remote buried somewhere in the sheets on Kate's side of the bed. I know it's in here somewhere. Kate always watches dumb cartoons late into the night, and she usually falls asleep clutching the remote like a security blanket. I fish around blindly for a minute before finding it hidden beneath her pillow, then point it in the direction of the TV and mash at random buttons until the screen flickers to life.
"— new information at this time, but we'll stay on the air and keep you updated as long as we can. We're hearing... We're... Hold on, please, I have my producer in my ear..."
I squint at the TV, confused. The little orange network logo in the corner of the screen tells me I'm tuned to Nickelodeon, but there's a news anchor on screen, some middle aged silver haired guy. I want to say Anderson Cooper, but I'm not sure. Skinny dude, looks like a prematurely gray college senior.
"... OK... Uh huh..." He presses his ear as he speaks, listening to someone through an earpiece. He looks flustered, his face shiny and flushed. "OK, I'm being told that the President is preparing to address the nation. We'll take you live to the White House just as soon as—" The image switches to the presidential seal without warning, cutting the anchor off mid-sentence.
I sit bolt upright, suddenly fully awake. What the fuck is going on? The seal stays on screen for ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty. I start to wonder if there's been some sort of technical problem, or maybe my signal has frozen. I quickly flip through the channels to see what else is showing, but each channel shows the exact same seal, like every frequency has been hijacked.
tap, tap, TAP, taptaptaptap.
The seal finally vanishes, replaced by a color pattern, and a few seconds later the image flickers to what looks like
Gradually, day by day, week by week, I spent less time trying to convince people that the world was going to end and more time enjoying the world I had now. Kate made me forget it all. She made me forget my plan to leave the city for a shack out in the woods. She made me set aside my plan to learn how to shoot, trap game, filter water and dress a wound with my eyes closed. She made me forget everything but those cute little dimples that appeared whenever she smiled.
Looking back, this was a pretty fucking huge mistake.
Dimples aren't worth shit at the end of the world.
April 7th, 2019
It's the rain that wakes me. Thick, heavy drops, bouncing like ball bearings against the window above the bed. It sounds like it's gusting outside, pushing the rain in sheets so it falls unevenly on the glass... tap, tap, tap, tap, taptaptaptap, tap, tap, tap, tap, like a sudden flurry of applause.
I crack open one eye and crane my neck to the old fashioned alarm clock on the bedside table, a black cast iron beast with a scrap of sponge squeezed beneath the bell to muffle the alarm. It's just after eleven in the morning. I roll on my back and stretch, grinning to myself as I remember it's Saturday. Nothing to do today but watch TV in my underwear until Kate gets home from work. Maybe I'll cook. Nah. Maybe I'll just order pizza. It feels like a pizza day.
taptaptaptaptaptap.
I feel something wet and cold splash against my cheek, and I look up at the window to find it's cracked open a few inches. With each gust a little spray finds its way through the gap to my bed. It's kinda nice. Brooklyn has been unseasonably warm these past few days, and we don't have any aircon in this old place. It's nice to be woken by a cool shower and that strangely pleasant smell of city rain. Musty and damp, but oddly refreshing.
I reach out to hunt for the remote buried somewhere in the sheets on Kate's side of the bed. I know it's in here somewhere. Kate always watches dumb cartoons late into the night, and she usually falls asleep clutching the remote like a security blanket. I fish around blindly for a minute before finding it hidden beneath her pillow, then point it in the direction of the TV and mash at random buttons until the screen flickers to life.
"— new information at this time, but we'll stay on the air and keep you updated as long as we can. We're hearing... We're... Hold on, please, I have my producer in my ear..."
I squint at the TV, confused. The little orange network logo in the corner of the screen tells me I'm tuned to Nickelodeon, but there's a news anchor on screen, some middle aged silver haired guy. I want to say Anderson Cooper, but I'm not sure. Skinny dude, looks like a prematurely gray college senior.
"... OK... Uh huh..." He presses his ear as he speaks, listening to someone through an earpiece. He looks flustered, his face shiny and flushed. "OK, I'm being told that the President is preparing to address the nation. We'll take you live to the White House just as soon as—" The image switches to the presidential seal without warning, cutting the anchor off mid-sentence.
I sit bolt upright, suddenly fully awake. What the fuck is going on? The seal stays on screen for ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty. I start to wonder if there's been some sort of technical problem, or maybe my signal has frozen. I quickly flip through the channels to see what else is showing, but each channel shows the exact same seal, like every frequency has been hijacked.
tap, tap, TAP, taptaptaptap.
The seal finally vanishes, replaced by a color pattern, and a few seconds later the image flickers to what looks like
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