Oh goody for you. I don't do apocalypse very well, I seem to like my future on the rosy side.

Oz

My story is a light, humorous short-short about the destruction of all humanity. The rosy part involves the conversation with the squirrel.

Wow, Sue, congratulations!

Muchas gracias, Debbie.

Muchas gracias, Debbie!

Nice work, Sue! And thanks for the link. Maybe I'll try them with my surfing zombie redneck story as a reprint...?

Now, who's story was that quote for? Was it Mike van Wie's?

Mike's story, from what little I recall. It's been a decade (¡!) now.

My story is a reprint, so I know the editor will consider them.

Over a decade! Can't believe it.

And I sent 'em my zombie story, just for the heck of it. Thanks!

*laugh* I wondered why I was getting so many cover letters referencing an off-hand comment in the PS of an acceptance!

Yes. I've come to realize that an anthology with a theme like "End of Time" probably needs a good zombie apocalypse story. But for the record, I'm still accepting non-shambling-undead stories as well. Rosy, dark, silly, grim, whatever. Just as long as it ties in to our theme with a minimum of semantic gymnastics, it will be considered.

Zero Hour
by Sue Burke

Everyone who knew about the plan waited, hoping for catastrophe. Suddenly, all clocks displayed 00:00:00.

Everything was networked, so everything instantly went dead: lights, telephones, building controls, automated factories, data-chipped ID readers, weapons systems, household appliances, cars. Surveillance cameras quit moving and locks sprang open. In a desperate act, saboteurs had effectively turned off time. Clock signals no longer synchronized the worldwide computer network, and it crashed for good.

It had held exhaustive data on every person and thing, and interfaced and interfered at every moment: what to do, when to do it, when to eat, what to eat, who deserves to eat, who may leave their homes and who will be trapped and starved or in some other way eliminated because the data showed that the world would be better off without them.

Without clocking, the world-sized spider web collapsed, and its intricate silicon chips became as useless as shattered glass. Nothing worked anymore, and unimaginable data had been lost forever.

But the sun still moved across the sky. The moon alternated between full and new, and stars rose and set in an annual procession, natural clocks. Humanity could start over from zero, alone and free.