The day was July 3, 2029. The crops in all the neatly procured, subsidized fields lining the highway were starting to pop. Where the fields were healthy, the corn was definitely knee-high, and the soft, bushy rows of soybeans were definitely looking super bright and green. The stretch of roads was quiet, like always, as I raced my black 2008 Ford Focus to my mom’s house. She raised my two older brothers and me on her own since I was barely sixteen. “Come on, Katherine!” I shouted at my with frustration, “Can you drive any faster!” No matter how fast I drove, it didn’t seem fast enough.

When I started my usual shift at my totally normal, not embarrassing, soul-sucking, lifeless job, nothing really convinced me the world was going to end. That something more lifeless than my soul would start rising from the grave. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I was convinced the world was ending in the middle of my shift at 12 pm, even when the store was practically dead save for my co-workers, who were too busy and distracted by unloading and stocking the truck as I was. I wasn’t sure if the world was ending when I punched.

It was when I was walking to my car that I felt like something was off…