Snow Melt

Creation Saturday: Two Days

The March 23, 2013 prompt for "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  is
You awaken one morning to find an hourglass has been placed on your bedside table.
A note attached to it says, "Two Days." Write about what happens next.

Damn, I thought sitting up in bed and reaching under my pillow for my cell phone, I turned the alarm off in my sleep again. I opened my eyes, lifted the pillow and stared. My cell phone was no where in sight. Did my cell fall on the floor? I raised my eyes to the nights stand, staring blankly at the huge hourglass reposing on the stand.

"What day is this," I whispered removing the note attached to the hourglass. "Two day..." I shook my head. "Two days until what?" I place the note on the stand, got down on my hands and knees, then begin to search under the bed for my cell phone. No luck, my cell was nowhere to be found. "Is this April Fools Day?"

"Coffee," I grumbled as I stood up. "I need caffeine! I can't be expected to figure this out without at least two cup of hot, strong, and black coffee." I walked slowly through the house checking both the front door and the sliding glass door. Both doors were locked from the inside, so no one could have gotten into the house during the night. In the kitchen, I checked the coffee maker to make sure I had put fresh water and coffee grounds in it last night, but before turning it on I added one more scoop of grounds before turning it on.

While the coffee was brewing, I went out to pick up the paper. Back inside the house, I opened the paper and looked at the date. "Saturday, March 23, 2013," I folded the paper, put it under my arm, and went to the kitchen. "I was right, it's not April Fools Day so...." There sitting on the breakfast bar, was the hourglass with the note attached to it. "Maybe I'm going crazy," I placed the paper next to the hourglass, poured myself a large mug of coffee, and sit down at the breakfast bar.

As I sipped my coffee, I stared at the hourglass. I was fascinated by the way the grains dropped into the lower half of the glass. One grain descended every second as if counting down to a momentous event. "Two days until what," I got up, poured myself more coffee, and went back to the breakfast bar. "It can't be the end of the world because that was supposed to happen last year. The world was supposed to come to an end on December 21, 2012."

I picked up my newspaper, separated the sections, and then placed section a back on the counter. Opening section b, to the obituaries, I glared at the full page advertisement. In two inch letters were the words Two Days center above People of Las Vegas, you have two days to repent of your sinful way. At this point I did not know whether to laugh, cry or what, so I read on. "People of Las Vegas," the ad said, "if you do not repent in two day your sinful city will disappear from the face of the Earth. We will transport every square block of your city, to the Venus the hell of your solar system."

"As if my life isn't complicated enough," I mumbled. "Now I'm going to have to learn how to survive on Venus. I hope they have good coffee there."