It seemed at first to Rock that only he was doomed. He was in his back bedroom, where he had slept through most of the night on his single bed, the same one his maternal great-grandmother used as a child nearly one-hundred and fifty years earlier. It did not occur to him that his blood glucose was low. All he knew for certain was that he was moments from death.
There were no hints of fright or despair or any need for either. This was his course, inevitable and completely out of his hands. Rock felt a need to share it and was suddenly aware of an audience and that the destructive force of his demise was on the move, headed easterly from the back of his house. He began to describe things that would go with him first, including books and their titles from a bookcase on the south side of the bedroom. There was a tube of energy gel about to disappear that he chose to eat rather than let go to waste.
With that, Rock realized the entire earth was about to meet its end. He walked into his den, where he suddenly knew that wasn't possible. His home planet was safe for at least the next few billion years.
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