1.3

"It must take a singularity for the bus system to be on time," Ableman thought to himself as he took a bite of the BLT he packed for the once certain annihilation.

"It's five dollars to ride the bus," the bus driver said gripping the steering wheel.

"Five dollars!" Ableman shouted, loosing a bit of the "T" from the BLT.

"We didn't expect to be around so management increased bus fees for a tax credit or some damn thing," Walter, the bus driver, explained.

Trying to save a buck on taxes in a world that wouldn't exist anymore made as much sense as an exponential intelligence doubling. They must have been trying to fulfill the other half of the old "death and taxes" adage. Got to give them credit for that at least.

"I've only got two dollars," Ableman said hesitantly trying to swallow the increasingly desiccating sandwich.

"Good enough for me," Walter said monotonically, "they already paid out retirement benefits so I don't really need this job. I only came to work today because the bus showed up at my house and it wouldn't leave me alone."

"The bus drove itself to your house?" he asked taking a seat near the front so he could continue chatting with a man who was getting more interesting with each passing block.

"Craziest thing; I was throwing rocks through the neighbor's windows - I mean, how often does the world end - when I heard screeching brakes in the driveway. I knew it had to be my bus. Don't ask me how I knew that, but I'm starting to know a lot of things I didn't know before. I dropped the backpack filled with stones and scrambled from the turret down to the driveway. As soon as I saw it rumbling next to the house its doors opened up. I slowly walked over and peered inside. There was no one there. So I hopped on in and here I am," Walter said, his voice gaining more inflection as the story progressed.

"So that would explain the 'Ride Well With TIMSHEL' on the bus's marquee," Ableman said quietly.

The ride to work was filled with typical end-of-the-world scenery: piles of burning trash in the middle of the street, babies crying, women screaming, everything tinted an extra measure of grey. Ableman's destination at JCMI was surprisingly energized with eager shoppers, however.

"I don't understand what's going on," Ableman said as he pulled the cord.

"You May," Walter said with a gleam in his eye.

"Do you understand?"

"Certainly! My bus explained it to me," he boisterously laughed as the brakes squealed and the door opened.

Ugh! I do not want to work today, Ableman thought as he began humming along with the background music.

-Van Allen
-Salt Lake City, UT