It Started with Sweat

            Whenever I pictured the world ending, I pictured the entire world knowing about it. The President of the Untied States of America would tell us that an asteroid was heading to Earth, or that we were going to war, or maybe we would just hear an alarm or something to tell us we were all about to die. But I didn’t expect this.

            Three friends and I decided to go to my Aunt’s cabin in Tahoe for the Summer. We were all finished with college and were about to start our lives as full grown adults with jobs, mortgages and kids. But first we had to have one last hurrah as stupid kids. We were isolated. Some think that would be an advantage to an end of the world scenario. They’d be wrong.

            It started with sweat. We didn’t notice how bad we were sweating because it was summertime, who would think you could sweat too much during summer? No one. The more we showered, the more we swam in the lake, the worse it got. The more we drank the more parched we were. The more we moved the more we felt as though our hearts would explode.

            After awhile we didn’t even move. We were soaked in sweat and our skin was sunken in and we looked like something out of that Salvador Dali painting, Persistence of Memory. I was the last to go. Marty went first, June and Sally were next. I think they went at the same time, I wasn’t really paying attention. I was staring at the sky outside. Everything looked so peaceful.

            If this wasn’t the end of the world, I’m sure some men in hazmat suits would find us. They would blame it on something that got in the water. The water that we drank from, swam in, bathed in. They would find something in the ocean, something in the sea, something somewhere to tell the tale. That’s if this isn’t the end of the world, but I’m pretty sure it is. Shit like this doesn’t just happen.