A man sits on a rooftop, waiting for the end of the world. He’s lost in his thoughts as he lights a cigarette and looks out towards the pale blue horizon. He inhales the smoke and savours the way it stings the back of his throat; it’s been a long time. When he breathes out, it’s almost like a sigh. This is apparently the last sunrise he’ll ever see but he isn’t scared; more annoyed at the fact that this is it. There was a lot he never got to do.
“I see you also decided to take up smoking again, Mr Grimm,” says a familiar voice.
Grimm looks back and sees his old friend, Murdock, holding two tumblers of whiskey and ice, with the bottle under his arm.
“Yeah, well I figured cancer wasn’t going to get me before… What’s it called again?” says Grimm, “And I see you’ve started drinking again.”
“Pandora,” answers Murdock, “And I figured we should share one last bottle, you know, for old times’ sake. Can I sit down?”
“Well obviously,” replies Grimm as Murdock hands him one of the glasses and puts the bottle of the floor, “You mean I’ll finish the bottle while you nurse that glass for the next three hours.”
“Pretty much,” laughs Murdock. He pulls up one of the deck chairs that lie scattered all over the rooftop and sits down next to Grimm. “By the way, can I bum a smoke? My box got lost in the chaos downstairs.”
“Some things never change,” says Grimm as he tosses Murdock his box of smokes. “What’s it like down there?”
“Pretty much everyone’s passed out, except those who are trying to bang their way into the afterlife. So, once again, we are the last men standing. Cheers.”
They both raise their glasses and nod before each taking a sip of the fiery amber liquid.
“Is this Black and White?” asks Grimm.
“It is.”
“Didn’t they stop making it?”
“I’ve had this one in my cupboard for about five years.”
“Well played.”
“Thanks.”
They both sit in silence for some time. The horizon has gone pink; the sun is about to show its face.
“You know, I didn’t expect you to be here. I would have thought you’d be with your family,” remarks Murdock.
“Couldn’t get a flight,” says Grimm without looking away from the sky.
“Same.”
“So where’s this thing going to hit?”
“Somewhere in the Pacific I think. I bet you anything it’ll be Hawaii. Literally on the island.”
“But that’s on the other side of the planet.”
“Yeah, but the shockwaves and energy and stuff will pretty much wipe out everything. Unless you’re one of those rich idiots in your own personal bunker.”
“I don’t know hey.”
“It doesn’t really matter though. Whatever happens, the world that we’ve lived in for how long won’t exist this time tomorrow.”
“I suppose it ended three months ago then.”
“How so?”
“Come on, the minute – no, the second people heard that space shuttle, uh –”
“Titan.”
“Yeah, that one. As soon as they blew themselves up instead of themselves and the rock, the world went crazy.”
“Well…”
“What?”
“World’s always been crazy hasn’t it. People just stopped pretending.”
They laugh at this. The silence of the dawn doesn’t sit well with it. Grimm turns to Murdock.
“So how’s things with you and whatserface? How’s that going?”
“Um… She, uh, ran off. Well, sort of. It was a bit of a mess actually.”
Murdock doesn’t say any more; Grimm doesn’t ask. They have an understanding about these things – prospects are fair game, exes are not.
“Guess who I ran into at one of these, um, parties, I guess,” says Grimm, filling up his second glass while Murdock takes a second sip. “I don’t know what to call them.”
“Early wakes. Who?”
“Miss Wonderland. Haven’t spoken to her in, I don’t know how long, and next thing I know I see her getting completely wasted, I mean one-eye-closed-needs-subtitles-kind-of-trashed.”
“And then?”
“And then nothing.”
“Is that really the end of the story?”
“Pretty much.”
“Fair enough.”
“Oh, but that Ashe.”
“Still good?”
“Oh yes.”
“Well at least you got over her.”
The door to the rooftop opens. Loudly. Grimm and Murdock turn to see the source of the commotion. A petite blonde woman, who was on every man’s radar at the beginning of last night stumbles forth into the still morning air, mumbles a “Hello” to the two men and then promptly passes out on an upside down deck chair. Grimm and Murdock are about to get up, but then a second lady, brunette and oft-overlooked, comes out to check on her unconscious friend. The men sit down, she’s got this.
“Hi,” she says, “Sorry.”
“I take it this happens a lot,” says Murdock, nodding towards the blonde.
“All the time,” comes the reply, along with a smile.
“At least she’s a happy drunk,” says Grimm.
“Most of the time,” says the brunette, “As long as you smile and nod like you agree.”
She starts tapping her friend’s face, softly cooing what sounds like “Wake up, bitch.” Blondie responds by opening one eye and mumbling “You’re so nice,” before retching.
Murdock chuckles to himself when he sees Grimm close his eyes and cover his ears to guard against his own gag reflex. Some things never change.
“Let’s get you downstairs, okay?” says the brunette to the blonde, helping her friend to her feet and leading her to the door.
“Have a drink with us!” calls Murdock suddenly, just before the ladies disappear, “When you’re done tucking her in.”
For a moment it seems like he’s too late, but then a voice from inside calls out “Sure, okay” from the stairwell. Murdock turns to Grimm who is still shaking of the heebie-jeebies by pouring another glass.
“What do you think? Jack of Clubs?”
“Which one?”
“The one who could still walk.”
“Yeah, although… Maybe ten. I’m not sure.”
“And the other one?”
“Meh.”
The orange light finally hits their faces, bringing silence with it. They don’t speak for a long while. They don’t need to.
The door behind them opens.
“Pull up a chair,” says Murdock, “That was quick.”
“She saw some guy in the blue room that she liked and just barrelled in,” says the brunette as she sits down beside Grimm, “Anyway, not my problem. How about that drink?”
Grimm fills his empty glass and hands it to her, taking a sip from the bottle.
“Thanks,” she says, “Hang on, don’t I know you?”
“I don’t know,” says Grimm, “Do you?”
“Yeah,” she says, with that sudden-recognition tone in her voice, “You were in that thing with, um, gosh, what’s his name? Michael something…”
“Marrionettes?” offers Murdock.
“Yes! That’s the one,” she says brightly, “You were the teacher guy who got killed by the prefect, I think.”
Murdock bursts out laughing.
“Shut up,” Grimm quips, “Yeah that was me.”
“What’s so funny?” the lady asks Murdock as he almost chokes on his last sip of his first glass.
“No, it’s just a bit of a running joke with us,” he finally replies.
“I’m the guy that dies,” says Grimm.
“Oh,” she says, smiling, “Like uh –”
“Sean Bean.”
“Yes! It was a great movie though.”
“Thanks,” say Grimm and Murdock in unison.
“So,” says Murdock, lighting a smoke and handing the pack to Grimm, “What’s your name then?”
“Why not,” she says when Grimm offers her a smoke, “It is the last day on Earth, after all. Um, my name’s Alexis. Alexis James.”
“Well, Alexis James,” says Murdock, raising his glass, “Thanks for sharing a drink with us on this day of days.”
Alexis inhales deeply as Grimm lights her smoke and promptly coughs her lungs out.
“Oh God,” she sputters, shaking her head and blinking away tears, “I forgot about that part.”
“What do you mean?” asks Grimm.
“That first drag. It burns!” she says, mimicking the Wicked Witch of the West with that last bit. Grimm and Murdock chuckle. She cools down with the fire-water before trying again, this time with great success.
“You know what I won’t miss,” she says as she exhales, “Social networks.”
“Hear, hear.” says Murdock.
“And crappy music,” adds Grimm.
“Beliebers.” says Alexis
“Stupid memes.”
“Internet trolls.”
“Rent payments.”
“Insurance.”
“Twilight.”
“Twilight fan fiction.”
“Definitely! And politicians,”
“Politics in general.”
“Well I was kind of hoping to see Arnie become President of the U. S.”
“I definitely won’t miss taxes,” interrupts Murdock.
“Death without taxes,” quips Alexis, “that’s a plus.”
They all fall silent. Grimm starts laughing, and then Murdock, and then Alexis. Soon they’re practically doubled over with tears in their eyes. It’s not because what she said was funny, but because she said it so quickly that it snuck up on them and, somehow, they all realise that this is probably the last time they will ever experience one of these tiny, insignificant gems of human existence. It takes a full five minutes before they calm down.
“I’ll miss this, though,” says Murdock.
Grimm looks up. The sky is as clear as it could ever be, the pale blue of the morning forcing back the darkness. The last remaining stars seem to fade out as a ball of fire and ice, that looks as large as the moon appears in the west. “There she is,” he says.
None of them know why, but they all rise to their feet as they watch Pandora on her way to the still-dark side of the Earth. It’s slow, almost graceful.
Alexis touches Grimm’s arm and says, “I’m going inside, it was nice to meet you guys.”
“You too.”
“Definitely,” says Murdock, “You’re brilliant, Alexis James.”
She waves goodbye when she reaches the door, and then she’s gone.
“So, Mr Grimm. What do you think?”
“I would.”
“I thought so. It’s a pity.”
“What is?”
“Methinks you could have found a good one there. One of the few.”
“Really?”
“Definitely. Bright, confident, awkward pretty and doesn’t need a man. She’s perfect for you, guy.”
“I don’t know.”
“You never know.”
Pandora nears the horizon.
“Not long now,” says Murdock.
“Whiskey’s done.”
“Smoke?”
“Smoke.”
“It’s funny,” says Murdock, “It took the end of the world for me to finally be a good wingman.”
They light up. As they watch the Earth’s death rattle draw near, each man regards the other in his turn. They don’t say anything. They don’t need to.
Pandora begins to fade.
“Well call me Susan and respect my life choices,” whispers Murdock, dropping his cigarette.
“What?”
“It’s fading.”
“So?”
“So, it should be going past the horizon line, to the Pacific. Fading means it’s leaving the atmosphere.”
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
“Well, are you sure?”
“Can’t hurt to wait and see, right.”
And so they wait. Nothing happens. They finish their smokes. Nothing happens. They wait some more. Nothing happens.
“Well that was anti-climactic,” says Grimm.
“Agreed,” says Murdock. “Bit of a let-down really.”
“So, what now?”
“Keep on living, I guess.”
“I guess.”
“Well… Go on then.”
“Huh?”
“Go see about that girl. ‘Surprise! The world isn’t ending! Let go on a date. To celebrate. And not be celeb –”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I know. Just go already. I’ll see you around.”
“Cheers.”
“Peace, love and happiness, guy. We should do this again sometime.”
“Without the asteroid.”
“Yeah, without the asteroid.”
They shake hands and Grimm walks over to the door, practising his Rebel Without a Cause. He’s left the pack of smokes. Murdock takes out a fresh one, the last one in the pack in fact, and lights it, looking out at the unlikely dawn.
“Carpe diem, Grimm. Carpe f****ng diem.”
Aaaand that's it for the week, folks :)
Looking to crack out the Microphone and get recording soon. That'll be fun.
Peace, Love and a Little Madness
Nomad.