Countdown

The world was gonna crash and burn on December 31rst, 1999 at 11:59 PM.
Our bomb shelter was filled to it's starless dome with the sustinence of life. We had it all over the pedestrians.
We canned food at the Morman survival factories.
My ten year old twin boys dutifully measured dried peas.
My two and five year old daughters pitched their tiny fingers into huge burlap sacks of dried wheat. We learned about vacuumed air and how food encased in tin could last for years.
We scanned dry food cookbooks, hungrily looking for recipies that don't use dried eggs.
Because how could an egg that's dry taste good?
Nick bought a ‘State of the Art’ generator.
Our fire wood was stacked higher than the Weeping Willow.
We bought elixirs and pills that purify water. We huddled in hushed whispers about the panic and chaos that would surely knock on our door.
Some guy wailed over the Am radio from a stone fortress in Colorado.
All the clocks crept toward Zero.
In the morning of the year two thousand, I woke up.
I saw from my kitchen Window that snow had fallen the night before.
I looked past the barn and noticed a sixteen point buck grazing by the pond.

I figured we wouldn’t need the meat.