I didn't think too much about it when I awoke the next morning, but then I went to work and the feeling as with me all day. I dreamt that it was all going to be over and a voice said it was not any kind of voice I can remember, but a voice anyway, and it said things would stop here on Earth. It first happened about four nights ago." It's jut a feeling sometimes it frightens me, sometimes I'm not frightened at all - but peaceful." He glanced in at the girls and their yellow hair shining in the bright lamplight, and lowered his voice. "But just the closing of a book, let's say." "None of those at all," he said, stirring his coffee slowly and staring into its black depths. "Well, better start thinking about it," he said. There was an easy, clean aroma of brewed coffee in the evening air. In the background, the two small girls were playing blocks on the parlor rug in the light of the green hurricane lamps. She turned the handle of the silver coffeepot toward him and placed the two cups in their saucers. "What would you do if you knew this was the last night of the world?" Originally published in the February 1951 issue of Esquire
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