A Second Chance

Nothing happened.

I looked at my watch to make sure of the time. Sure enough, it was midnight. I listened for sounds of explosions, sounds of crashes, sounds of anything really. Instead, all I heard was the rhythmic tapping of the clock on the wall in the kitchen.

The TV still was on a blue screen, the stations having ended their programming several hours before, most with a final “goodbye” or “God bless” speech.

The lights were still on.

My heart, which up until a few minutes ago felt as though it was ready to leap from my chest, was slowly returning to a steady beat.

I stood gingerly, much like someone in a car teetering on the edge of a cliff, afraid that any sudden movement might well cause the catastrophe that seemed to have passed.

My muscles ached, legs, shoulders, even my back. The last several minutes had been spent in tensed anticipation, now my body was relaxing.

I walked over to the window, cautiously peering around the curtains at the darkness outside. Except, it wasn’t dark, at least not like I was expecting. The streetlights were still on, a dull orange glow shining on the road beneath them. Next door, the illuminated cross on my neighbor’s front porch still gave off its soft light.

A quick scan of the skyline revealed nothing, no fires, no mushroom clouds, no eerie green glow. Nothing but the darkness of the night.

That was when it hit me: They were wrong. Everyone had been wrong; the newscasters, the scientists, the politicians, the free-thinkers of the modern world. Nothing happened. All that buildup, all the frantic scrambling, all the panic and terror, for what?

People had said “what are we going to do when it happens?” Or “what’s going to happen afterwards?” Even “what will life be like?”

Everyone had been so sure.

No one bothered to think: What if nothing happens? How would the world respond to such a cataclysmic letdown?

I rested my head against the window, a mix of relief and confusion. What would we do now? Would it be possible for things to go back to the way they were before the hysteria? What if the date had been wrong? Maybe it was still coming.

I woke up the following morning, sore and groggy from a night spent on the floor, and made my way into the kitchen. The bowl of cereal had never tasted so good, the milk never so fresh. I realized as I sat at the kitchen table that things had changed, something had in fact happened. Whether anyone else in the world realized it or not, something had happened. We had all gotten another chance.

I smiled, took a deep breath, and picked up my phone, the number still at the top of my Recent Calls. I smiled and took a deep breath.