Steve woke up in the middle of his yard. A hammer pounded his head as a dead fish lay on his tongue. Tire tracks dug in convulsive circles in his lawn. His new Prius lay on its roof and was crumpled as paper. Smelling smoke, he turned to notice the burnt remains of what was the house he was renting.
Half dazed, half asleep Steve muttered, “I guess the world didn’t end after all.”
An elderly lady pushing a cart of discarded cans shuffled up to him and smiled. “Good morning, lover.”