The Brink of Disaster

The world was ending; this was no time for sentiment. I had the last working car in the neighborhood, one hour to get to the designated army base, and no room for passengers.

"Please, take my baby with you!" cried my neighbor, holding aloft her snot-nosed toddler.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Jones, there's no time!" I put my foot to the floor and accidentally knocked over one of her bins as I shot out of the driveway. Whatever. In just a few hours the asteroid would hit, and the bin would be the least of her problems.

"False alarm, everyone!" the shout came across the crowded army base.

It turned out the scientists were wrong. The asteroid would sail right past the Earth, causing nothing worse than a few trippy sunsets.

Everyone was sent straight home.

I turned onto my street and saw that Mrs. Jones' bins had been emptied across my lawn. I pulled into the driveway and found her and her toddler standing on my doorstep. Mrs. Jones tapped her foot.

"Listen," I said. "I think we've all made mistakes today...."