The End of the World

The year is 2039. For three days giant space-saucers hovered over every major city in the world. Washington had doubled it’s staff overnight, and the army was busy helping the national guard maintain a general semblance of peace. Curfews were implemented and strictly enforced by both helicopter and ground support units. The state of panic was as high as it was three days ago when these massive ships first arrived. On top of everything it was a record hot summer.

The only thing to do was stay inside; at night everything cools down, but the curfew still kept the streets empty. That was fine by me. I couldn’t stand going out there and seeing all those people with their heads thrown back, gawking forever upwards, shielding their eyes and pointing. I didn’t have to go anywhere anyway. I was still receiving 400 dollars every two weeks unemployment.

Imagine that! Alien spaceships hovering over every major city in the world and I still got my checks coming. And there were some other benefits in those first few days…

I was 33 years old and hadn’t been with a women in almost two and a half years. Two and a half years of self-pulling, squeezing, tugging, imagination, self-aggravation, and porn. Soon it becomes a habit. Everyone falls into their own pattern, but the pattern’s there. Before the shower? After the shower? In the shower? Before and in the shower? How about all three? Before work. After work. In the bathroom at work. Some days I’m sure I’ll never masturbate. I just don’t feel like it. Then suddenly when I’m alone and bored, the idea doesn’t seem so bad. And it’s usually good and quick and I can go right on with whatever I happened to be doing before. It’s depressing how often my urge to have sex with a woman has ended up with me having sex with myself. Not surprising really. It’s hard enough to meet woman, but without a job or any real social circle I had about as much luck as a bum with shit stains on his shorts. I stayed inside, except to cash my check or go to the market across the street.

All this changed when the saucers came. The second day after their arrival, when the streets were unusually quiet, I crossed the street to pick up some food and beer. I got bread, peanut butter, jelly, and beer. The girl at the register was the daughter of the Mexican family who ran the market. We had seen each other plenty of times and were friendly to one another. I could see the family in the back room watching some news show about the aliens. They had news going round the clock now on almost every channel. It was all about the saucers: where they might have come from, what the aliens who built them probably look like, what the ships were most likely made of… that sort of thing. I even saw one show that demonstrated how to perform “friendly gestures” should you ever encounter an extraterrestrial on your own time. The biggest advice offered was to remain calm and stay indoors as much as possible.

Unfortunately all the general excitement had made me extremely horny. I even thought about spending a bit of next month’s rent on a prostitute; everybody would plead some sort of money trouble this month anyway. I looked the girl over as she bagged my beer. She was wearing next to nothing and had her hair up high off her neck. Her tits were big and swollen. I got a hard-on standing there.

“$16.25.” I handed her a twenty. “Out of $20.00… $3.75 is your change. Have a nice day.”

She smiled, but I stood there. I thought I might as well try. It was different now with the saucers here. Everything had changed. “Crazy, those saucers, huh?”

The saucers brought their own originality. Her face lit up. “I know, can you believe it?” she said. I was excited. She was hot. We had barely spoken before this. And now she was positively glowing! Something clicked inside of me. I had to know this girl. I had to know what she felt like. But she was at least ten years younger than me and I could see her family in the back room.

“Yeah, I was at home when it happened.” I said.

“Really?” she smiled again.

“Yeah. It was crazy all right!” We paused. There are always uncomfortable silences. It’s hard to meet.

“O.K., well thanks.” There was a pause. I took my beer and left.

Alone again. I drank some beer and masturbated on the floor.

Bobby came over that night. I’ve known Bobby since the Eighth Grade. He’s just about the only person I still know from growing up. He’s also my drug dealer. Nothing crazy. He’s not rich or anything. He deals mainly to the same people. Mostly weed. Sometimes mushrooms. I’d love some speed, but it seems you’ve got to be a fag to get any speed these days.



We started drinking. Bobby rolled a blunt. His weed is always thick and green, covered with tiny red hairs. I like it.

“What’s going on?” he licked the blunt tight. It was a sexy little bitch.

“Same old stuff. I’m still getting my checks. I’ll have to probably get a job soon though.” We smoked.

Things were going good. We finished the beer and I went across the street for some more. The same girl was working the register. I could see the family in the other room. The TV was on.

“Hi.” she smiled the same smile.

I said hello and went to the fridge. I got a case of Miller and a big bottle of that cheap red wine.

“Any new developments?” I asked as she ran up the bill. :


“The aliens.”

“Oh. The president is going to give a speech about it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. $14.83.” I gave her another twenty. “Out of $20.00? $3.17 is your change.”

I stood there while she bagged my things. Once again she had selected the most amazing shirt to wear. It was a plain men’s white. A wife-beater; the perfect shirt to wear when you beat your wife. Man, this senorita was hot!

Thanks.” She gave another smile.

“My pleasure.” I left.

That night was hotter than hell. I didn’t even own a fan. I sat there with the window open and sweat. I couldn’t sleep. I masturbated five times. Not in a row, but it was still a new record. Finally I slept.

I woke up the next day still hot. My sheets were soaked. I looked out the window. The saucers were still there. It kind of made me smile. Hovering there. They were quiet, clean, emitted no gases, which baffled the boys at NASA. Maybe they should turn out to be hostile. Hell, maybe they should point their guns or proton energy raysand get rid of the whole lot. Shit, they’re obviously a few steps ahead. And look at us. Dirty. Petty. A bunch of mean-ass monkeys who can’t keep their fingers out of each others assholes. Who knows, but I’d bet on their culture over ours. No cars, no banks, no rent, no jail, no police, no external genitalia… just a bunch of soft alien bodies with big round eyes. Sophistication.

I decided to start drinking early today. It was a crazy week and I definitely felt the pressures of having been lowered on the intergalactic food chain. I looked out of the window again. This time I was looking down across the street at the grocers. I couldn’t stop thinking about those big brown tits. I wondered if the nipples were big or small like dimes. I liked big nipples. Big and wide. There was a knock on the door. I opened it and Christina, Bobby’s girlfriend, was standing there. She was another Mexican, with smaller tits. She looked worried.

“Hey, I would have called, but… ”

I have no phone. I didn’t pay the bill, so they cut it off. Oh well.

“Come in.” I moved aside. We sat on the couch.

“Are you drinking?” she asked.

“Yes, would you like a beer? Or some wine?”

“No thanks. I was hoping Bobby was here. He’s not answering his phone.” She took out a joint and smoked. I was really getting into the idea of this girl. She passed me the joint. Bobby’s weed.

“Fuck it’s hot. I have no idea where he is. We were supposed to go to his mother’s house to watch the spaceships last night, but he never showed. They have a nice deck.”

“Why don’t you have a drink and wait to see if he shows up?” It was feeble, but it doesn’t take much. “He was here yesterday and I asked him to stop by again today when I have some money. He should be here.” I lied.

“O.K. I’ll have wine then.”

We drank. There was no word from Bobby and about 3 o’clock Christina was good and drunk. We started kissing. She could really kiss. Really used her mouth: teeth, tongue, lips. It was hot and when I pulled her shirt off over her head, her bra was wet. She was salty. I got the rest of her clothes off, leaving her Jordan’s on, and went straight for the pussy. It had been two and a half years since I fucked a woman, and longer than that since I last ate a pussy. She was squirming on the couch. Finally, with her legs up, shoes in the air, I pushed into her. I gave a few good strokes. She came. Then I really started working. I made a silent pledge to the aliens. My window was wide open and I imagined them looking down on this crazy mating ritual, being thoroughly pleased. I even imagined those little alien scientists pointing me out as a buck. A prime breeder. A wild stallion. She came again and I dropped my load.

It had been exactly one week since the saucers first arrived. Nothing had changed. We knew exactly no more than we did before. I had by now decided to spend the rest of my rent money on liquor. I was sure I wouldn’t be the only one. I turned the TV on. Same. Pictures of the saucers over various cities, drawings of aliens, communication equipment, etc… bullshit. I decided to go outside. I went across the street. The Mexican girl was gone. Her father was working the register. I bought a fifth of vodka and some 7-up and went back to my room.

I didn’t see anybody for a couple of days. Then Bobby and Christina showed up. I was drunk and they were high.

“What’s up?” “Chillin”‘ “Come on in.” We sat on the couch. Bobby rolled a joint and we passed it around. There was still some beer.

“Did you hear about what happened in Long Beach?” Bobby asked.

“No.” I looked at Christina. She had on a pair of short white shorts that demonstrated her tanned legs.

“Shit man, ” Bobby continued, “People were going crazy. Breaking windows. Setting shit on fire. Stealing.”


“The aliens. People can’t handle it. They’re going crazy. They flipped out. Mass hysteria. You know.”

“Oh yeah.” I said.

“Yeah. Fucking burning buildings, smashing windows… People with guns and shit! Shit, people dying…”

“Oh yeah? How many?”

“I dunno. But a lot. Something like forty.”

“Oh yeah? Well shit. And what about you Christina? Are you going crazy too?”

She smiled. “I was.”

“Hey,” Bobby interrupted, “how about putting in ten on this weed?”

I gave him ten dollars. They stayed for a couple of hours before leaving.

I went back to the store. Things were getting tight and I had to start shopping smarter. I bought whiskey figuring I could always mix it down. I also got more bread and more peanut butter. The girl was at the register.

“$12.45. Out of $20.00? $7.55 is your change.”


Once again her shirt could barely contain her breasts which I was prepared to gobble up should they burst forth. It was like a fat boy strapping into a rollercoaster. She bagged my goods.

“Did you hear about what happened in Long Beach?” I asked.

“Yeah. They showed it on TV.”

“People are going crazy.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t believe it.”

I figured what the hell. Tomorrow we might all be destroyed with one blast of a super proton eco-raygun.

“You want to have a drink?”

“No. I don’t think so. Sorry.” She looked embarrassed by the question.

I left.

But when I got outside I didn’t feel like gong back to my hot little room. Instead I headed across First St. through Little Tokyo, and over to the music center. It was about 7:00 and people were beginning to gather for the theater. There was a big banner announcing Drew Barrymore in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf. Same old shit. I never go to the theater; I assume it’s going to suck. I don’t like movies for the same reason.

The people get dressed up for the theater, some come early and picnic. I like to watch the parties arrive, the girls show up, guys waiting around… mostly old people and couples. Not the ideal place for meeting women. Usually I bring something to drink from home and ask the bartender for a cup of ice. They charge for the cup and ice.


I mixed a nice drink and relaxed. The sun was setting beautifully behind the DWP. Even the saucers took on an earthly hue. Who knows, they might not turn out to be such bad guys. Besides, in theory we’re all made up of the same space dust. I was drinking and enjoying this last idea of Utopia when a woman sat down to share my table.

“Do you mind?” she asked. She was about my age and in very good shape, although I don’t mind them fat.

“Please. Are you waiting for the show?” I asked.

“I just love the theater. It will be my third time seeing this particular run.”

“Oh yeah?” I took a drink.

“I’ve always admired Drew’s work. Do you know that she was only eight when she was in her first movie?” She looked at me. I could see that I was meant to be affected by this.

“Really?” I drank. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yes! She was only eight years old and was drinking and had a drug problem. Hollywood can be so cruel!”

“Listen, can I offer you a drink?” I refilled my cup. I was starting to feel good, only I wished we could talk about something sexy and not the old bag-of-bones Barrymore. I handed her the cup.

“You brought your-own?” Now it was her turn to act surprised.

“Sure. It’s cheaper that way.” She didn’t appear impressed by my frugality. The booze was really kicking in and I was getting bolder by the second. But she took a sip. I got to admit, I didn’t think she would.

She handed the cup back and I smiled, then had another drink. It was cool and delicious. I was really starting to like this one. I could tell she was looking me over good now. A few details she must have missed when she first sat down.

“Are you going to the show?” she asked.

“Nope.” Drink. “Have another?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine. I’m not use to hard alcohol.”

“Is that right? Well, why don’t you skip this piece of shit, come back to my place and I can teach you how to drink and fuck all over again?”

She said she’d rather not and made some excuse for herself before heading off towards will call. There it goes. She had a nice round ass that waved goodbye as it switched back and forth beneath her dress. It seemed as sad as I was.

I finished my drink and waited until the sun had gone all the way down before I went back home. I was pretty drunk, and this time when I was passing through Jap-Town I screamed “WWH baby! WWH! Whoooaaa!!” Right by the wooden sculpture.

I stayed in bed again for a couple of days. No real reason to go anywhere. I still had forty dollars and another check was due any day now. The saucers hadn’t moved. Might as well drink up. If I finished my booze then I had that much more of a reason to go across the street and buy more.

I wasn’t eating too well, and I had the shits. I was nearly out of bread as well. I kept thinking about that woman’s ass. It was pretty much the only thing keeping me going. That ass and the tits across the street. I didn’t even bother with my porn collection anymore. I had seen every picture so many times. I only masturbate to the ads now. That’s where the real fucked up shit was. Ads for pregnant chicks having sex or girls who can put enormous dildos in their ass or will fuck a horse. College girls in panties, bored housewives who’ll fuck any bum with a dick. Anything goes in advertising. Big black chicks who love white dicks… sounds good… gang bangs, assholes that can take an orange… shaved pussies… pee-pee playhouse or bi-she males and hermaphrodites… freaky female, out of control ass pounding madness!!!

I had been drinking all day. I was sitting at the window looking at those bitch-ass saucers. I figured they already knew everything about me. I felt like a cat that’s lifted backwards to see if it’s a boy or a girl.

At ten o’clock there was an argument. A car sped to a halt and two car doors slammed shut. I looked out and saw this Mexican dude yelling at the girl who works across the street. They were standing right outside on the curb. He was yelling and she had her face in her hands. She looked good. He really let her have it. And she cried. Then he got in his car, yelled “Puta!” and sped off.

“Hey!” I yelled. She didn’t look up. I yelled again. This time she looked up. I got scared. She stared at me. I ducked back inside my room.

Sometime in the night there was a knock on my door. I hardly touched the handle when Bobby and Christina came charging in.

Christina shouted. Bobby punched me twice in the face.

When I woke up I was alone. My head hurt bad. I sat up carefully and squinted. I was somewhere between the coffee table and the couch. Bobby and Christina had left.

I got up and sat on the couch. I picked up a beer. It was empty. I picked up another. It was half full. I sat there drinking my beer and thinking. Among other things, I thought about whether or not my unemployment check had arrived yet. I thought about the Mexican girl across the street. I thought about why Bobby hit me. I considered taking a shit. Then I noticed the saucers… They were gone. They left. Gone home I guess. Here I was drunk, acting like a fool and they left. Gone forever most likely. Never to return. That was it. My only chance and I fucked it beautifully. Gone forever.

© 2000 Gordy Amede

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