It’s getting near noon, and it hasn’t happened. Well, I can’t be too sure of that. I haven’t gotten an email or call in about an hour. What if the world ended and I haven’t been notified? Isn’t it all illusion anyway, and isn’t illusion infinite by nature?
Before we turn aside from metaphysics, let’s spend a moment to consider the qualities of this apocalypse, should it arrive. It doesn’t hurt to plan ahead, though I’m a little late. This one has an exotic pedigree: Mayan; it’s not another inept near-miss by Jehovah in his Almighty Wrath. This one comes with parrots in the palms, not bats in the belfry. No Rapture this time with bodies taken up and clothes left behind. Maybe not a lot of clothes, period, are required. Perfume by Jungle.
Which leads to my dilemma: what to wear. It seems wrong to wear the same thing I’ve worn every day since October: a sweatshirt and my down jacket. I’m assuming there will be some kind of reckoning, a Mayan Last Judgment, else what’s the point? I don’t want to show up in a down jacket. It wouldn’t look right.