“There ain’t no sky today. Not today, not yesterday, not ever…” Baba let the curtains fall closed and he backed away from the window, his shoulders hanging heavy.

“You know, I remember when we could see the sky. It was blue, bright blue… with fluffy white clouds… sometimes, it would rain and they’d be thick and dark… not like this, though.”

“I know, Baba, you tell me every day,” Ming spoke softly, coming up behind her father and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, well… even so… I wish you could have that life too, my flower… beautiful girls like you deserve to see the sun.”

Ming smiled sadly. Her father talked about what the world used to look like every chance he got. As he aged, he forgot more and more, but he never forgot to tell his daughter stories about the sky– the real sky, behind the constant murky black smog that blocked 98% of sunlight from reaching the earth.

“I know, Baba. I wish I could see it, too,” she responded as she gently led her father away from the living room window and down into his armchair.

“What’s on the menu for breakfast, my darling?” He sighed as his thin frame sunk down into the cushions.

“I was thinking maybe some eggs, or—”

A blaring, bone-rattling alarm sounded, cutting through the air and suffocating any other sound or thought. Ming and Baba immediately crushed their hands over their ears, but it brought no relief from the harsh noise.

“What’s going on!?” Ming shouted, stinging her throat, even though she couldn’t hear her own voice over the alarm. Answering her question, a monotonous, thunderous voice began to accompany the alarm.

“ATTENTION CITIZENS, ATTENTION CITIZENS. THE PLANET’S MESOSPHERE HAS BEEN CRITICALLY COMPROMISED. MULTIPLE EXTRATERRESTRIAL BODIES IN A DIRECT COLLISION COURSE WITH EARTH HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED. PLEASE PREPARE FOR IMMINENT IMPACT. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO YOUR NEAREST APOCALYPSE BUNKER OR SHELTER. BRING AS LITTLE PERSONAL BELONGINGS AS POSSIBLE. PLEASE PREPARE FOR IMMINENT IMPACT. I WILL REPEAT THE INSTRUCTIONS.”

Ming whipped her head around, trying to make eye contact with her father, but he was hunched over in his chair, eyes shut tight, arms wrapped around his head as his frail body trembled. Ming stumbled over to him as the robotic voice repeated its speech. She shook his shoulders firmly, finally getting him to look at her. Ming screamed over the cacophony.

“We have to go!! We have to go now!!!”

Baba hesitated for a moment before nodding. Ming helped him stand up and the two immediately began rushing around the house in a blur, stuffing clothing, water, food, and medicine into bags. Within minutes, the duo was headed for the door, prepared for anything… except for what happened next.

The suffocating alarm that had filled the air suddenly went quiet, leaving only a ringing in their ears. The sudden silence stalled them for a short moment, but they couldn’t stop now. As Ming urged her father out the front door, he made a strangled sort of noise and stopped cold in his tracks halfway across the porch.

“Baba, what’s–” Ming started before following his gaze up towards the sky.
The flat, muddy gray she had always known was a blazing bloody red and orange. In the near distance, the dense sheet of smog had parted way for a colossal ball of blazing inferno that filled almost the entire sky, minutes away from making contact with the earth.

“If you have any last prayers for the universe, I think now would be as good a time as any to make them,” Baba murmured, barely above a whisper. Ming tore her eyes away from her doom to her father, looking older than ever, with a content smile on his face. The sight caused tears to well up in her eyes. Baba looked to her, slowly, as if both their ends weren’t fast approaching.

“Don’t cry, my daughter. It’s only the end of the world.”

He pulled her into a hug and she cried silently into his shoulder as he stroked her hair. Words left unsaid, but never unfelt.

Everything was still. Everything was red. Everything was gone.