Another Martini

The martinis had gotten warm since the ice ran out a few hours before.  The temperature of the booze didn't matter.  It was a fog of forgetfulness they sought.

Like the fog that was forming outside the windows of their 31st floor condo.  Not so thick that he couldn't see the shape of the new office tower that was being build at the end of the island.  Wouldn't get to see it finished now.

Coming back from the bathroom, she was crying.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, I saw the basket of dirty clothes, and thought of taking them down to the laundry.  Then it struck me.  No need to do laundry again," she sobbed.

He went to her and held her tight.

"At least we'll be together at the end."

The end that the talking heads on TV were now saying was only about 5" away.  The approaching asteroid/planet/chunk of rock was going to strike.  No agreement on what to call it.  Plenty of agreement that it would destroy civilization as they knew it.  It was a well known story.

"I'm going to mix us another martini," he announced.  "We can toast each other at the end.  Or, if by some miracle it misses, we'll be ready to start the celebration."

"You do mix a great martini," She said.

"I use the shaker.  Even without ice, it provides a smooth mix.  Might as well be civilized."

They stood together, linked their arms, and sipped as a flash took over the screen.

The lights came up in the amphitheater.  The professor concluded the class with a brief comment.

"While this is, of course, a dramatization, from the artifacts that have been discovered throughout the famous museum island, we can state that it's representative of the last great days of Manhattan."