Just Another

The coffee mug trembled on the table. The little frequencies of vibrations made everything else shake, but it was the mug that vibrated the hardest, and in it, the coffee formed little ripples.

It was not the first earthquake that morning, nor was it the last during the final day on Earth. It was, as everything else, just another one—a fading remnant of a civilization on the brink of collapse, on the verge of extinction.

Eduard fixed his eyeglasses on the bridge of his nose. He looked at the coffee intently, then he held the mug, raised it to his mouth, and took a small sip. It was stale and old, just as everything around it. But it was coffee, one of the most joyous things in life for anyone who has acquired the taste, and one of the weirdest things in life for anyone who has not grown fond of it. The bitterness of the coffee, even the worst of it, was a taste that he longed for. He breathed for a long time, letting the air merge in with the aroma of the coffee and his own saliva.

Air was another one of those things that he would not enjoy much longer. He took another sip of coffee, then he moved over to the newspaper that lay on the kitchen table. It was a week-old newspaper that had bent edges and crumbled bits. The strangest thing about it was the emptiness of it as a whole. There was one heading that read in bold, “THE END” and underneath it was the story:

It has been determined that the last day of Earth will be on Tuesday, the 23rd of December 2038. The core of the planet has finally collapsed. The Americonadian Militarized Government has publicly declassified the information that efforts to restore the Asthenosphere have been terminated. With the termination of operation ‘Final Effort,’ the government announced its collapse and self-termination. At the same time, governments from 93 countries have announced similar measures. Additionally, with the termination of ‘Final Efforts,’ the final mandate of the government, ‘Operation Beyond,’ has commenced.

With the worldwide collapse of governments and efforts to resume life on the planet Earth, The Weekly News announces that this will be the last print.

Humankind may find a possible alternative with the commencement of ‘Operation Beyond.’ But for the rest of us, it is time to spend the final days with family and loved ones.

May God help us.

Eduard read the last thing that mattered in the newspaper again and took another sip. While there was little that he could do at that point, there was much to be done. To him, it was not the end that worried him the most, but it was how everything was to end; how it could be ended on different terms. He thought of a great many things, but the one thing that crept to his memory was cockroaches.

“Cockroaches,” he said aloud, but his voice barely carried any weight in the room that trembled again.

Eduard leaned back in his wooden seat and looked up at the crack in the ceiling. He thought of cockroaches; those disgusting creatures that made him cringe; that sent shivers down his spine whenever he came in close proximity to one, and for some reason, he remembered the ones that he killed. While he killed other bugs and even a few spiders, mostly unintentionally, some without the intent, but as a consequence of certain choices he had made, certain deodorants that he wore, cockroaches were the ones that he despised the most. Yet, at that moment of inexplicable serenity, he thought about cockroaches. He had heard stories of cockroaches surviving nuclear winter, most of which he had never even attempted to verify, but terrifyingly believed. ‘The sole survivor of the planet Earth would be cockroaches in the case of a nuclear war, or even the destruction of the planet.’ He thought about things that he had heard about cockroaches, and fragments of ideas and thoughts about those disgusting creatures. ‘They grow immune to the aerosols that we use against them,’ he remembered a conversation he had with an old friend about the infestation of cockroaches in his garage and how he tried to get rid of them in different ways, but they always came back. At that moment, Eduard thought of any possibility for cockroaches to survive the inevitable destruction of the planet. He thought of a funny image of a cockroach colony in space, cockroaches standing around a bonfire and telling stories to each other about those humans. He thought of the way cockroaches would think of humans and wondered if mankind would receive the same treatment that dinosaurs have been subjected to in fiction. Suddenly, he burst into laughter.

After a few minutes of laughter, Eduard finally stood. He took his mug and the last newspaper and walked outside the kitchen and out to the front door of his house. The door was wide open, and outside, there were a few people sitting on the grass, a couple were sitting on makeshift chairs made from old logs.

Eduard stood by the frame of the door, watching the people who perched in his front yard. There were others in the backyard, but there were also a great many people by his neighbors’ houses. His neighbor, Marcus, had decided that he wanted to spend the last days with his mother and her family in a nearby city, and so, Eduard had given him his car and supplied him with food. Marcus, in turn, had given Eduard the key to his house, but then after further consideration, which had only taken a few minutes, Marcus had broken the lock to his own door and placed a sign that said, “Welcome all” by the front door. He had told Eduard to use all of the wine he stored in his cellar, not only for him, but for everyone who would come around.

Many of the residents of the area had travelled to spend the last days with loved ones, others travelled to their churches, mosques, temples, and places of worship. There was a girl who decided that she wanted to spend the last days in nature far from the city. She took off her shoes and started walking, but she was joined by a few who followed her like a prophet. The sweet couple a few blocks away decided to end it on their terms, and they left a sign asking people not to enter, and they had placed most of their belongings outside. Eduard wondered about their dog, but he thought it better not to dwell in such thoughts.

There were, of course, a few acts of violence across the neighborhood. There were acts of vengeance, but there were also reunions. Several people reunited with their former partners, even when their partners had partners, and even though it was very unfamiliar to him, he thought it was a beautiful sight and display of love.

He thought of the love that spread everywhere with the knowledge of the end of humanity. He thought of the restaurant owner who decided that he wanted to cook for everyone. He thought of the barista and coffee enthusiasts who walked around with coffee for everyone.

As the walls trembled around, and the lovers embraced, believers prayed, and as the birds ceased to sing, Eduard sat by the front door of his house; the house that trembled and shook from the inside. He watched the sky one last time and held his breath for a few moments then he breathed out. The bitter aftertaste of the coffee lingered in his mouth; he squeezed the mug tightly and looked at it one last time.

‘World’s best boss’ it read, and he remembered the colleague who had given him the mug for his birthday some years ago. He remembered things so intently, he remembered them contently, and he smiled.

The streets rippled. The grass died. The music of the wind faded.

The oceans boiled, and the world turned to dust.

Written by Amr Abbas.

Cover photo by Snappy Shutters.