They were all wrong. He had survived his two divorces, job changes, and now… the apocalypse.
“That’s why people don’t like you,” Debra, his first wife, insisted. “You’re always bringing people down.”
But he wasn’t always bringing people. All he wanted to do was lift them up. The world was too full of doomsayers and critics; if humanity had started like this, we wouldn’t have made it this far.
Was it so wrong because he happened to see the world as it was?
The apocalypse hadn’t come; the rumours had passed like they always did. So what was there left survive?
“Dad, I need money to fix my skateboard,” his son told him, hand held out expectantly.
Oh, right. “What happened to the money I just gave you?”
“Had to use it for lunch when I was out with my friends.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not giving you another cent until you can prove you can spend it responsibly.”
The usual arguments. Bill sagged against the sofa. Now he understood the doomsayers. If life was this vain, maybe an apocalypse could teach us all to live again.
The least he could do until then was drag himself through and try to find the meaning to it. Together with his family, they had to survive this dreary apocalypse of lethargy, asleep at the wheel of our own destruction.
New Years prompt for Trifecta.