September 8th
The idea came to Louis Lovelace after a phone call informing him of the end of the world.
He groped for an excuse to end the call, but his mind was foggy from the smoldering joint in the ashtray. He’d been burning through the severance from his last job for almost five months now, and the truth was he had nothing better to do than listen.
“Louis, it’s Sheldon. We went to college together, remember?” the hopeful voice on the other end of the line said.
“I know this seems strange, but it’s urgent.”
Louis remembered Sheldon as a devoutly religious student who shared his notes whenever Louis was too hungover to take his own. They had hardly been friends, and in the fifteen years since graduation, Louis hadn’t thought about him once.
