What to bring to the end of the world?

Isaac was surprised when they announced the end of the world, but not particularly upset. On the television the scientists explained and the politicians gesticulated and everyone else looted toilet paper. He stayed in his apartment and watched it all with the same sort of deflated detachment that he might watch a cricket match.

Perhaps it was shock, but he didn't think so. His tether to the world already felt tenuous. When the pronouncement came, he didn't have anyone to call, and no one called him. In a way he thought it was kind of interesting — how many people in history could say they got to see the end of the world?

He had planned, at first, to spend the end of the world alone. He had enough food to last, a bottle of 12 year old Yamazaki he had been saving for a special occasion, and an apartment with a great view out over the city. The event was supposed to produce an impressive light show. So in the days leading up to the finale Isaac took to sitting outside on his balcony, enjoying the weather and drinking whisky and reading whatever information still managed to find its way online.

News articles quickly became repetitive and boring. Reading them made Isaac feel as though he was seeing it all from 30,000 feet — an excellent view that told him nothing and touched him not at all. The more he read the farther away he felt, and suddenly he wanted to be closer, much closer, on the ground on his knees, pushing his hands into the mud of it all and feeling it seep through his fingers one last time.

He found what he was looking for metastasizing in blogs and social media. Awful endearing poetry, harsh naked selfies, desperate rambling videos; all of it sent out to everyone and no one in particular. They were all people like him, people with no one to call, and at the very end they all had something they needed seen. He devoured them all, ravenous for the casual intimacy, and in his hunger he started reading the invitations. That's how he discovered Ken and Linda.

The invitations were everywhere. People looking for someone to hold, to kiss, to fuck, or else offering themselves. Some were beautifully sordid; those ones made him laugh with relief. Others didn't. They made his lungs feel like they were being squeezed.

Alex (male, 35) looking for anyone in the UK. I'm overweight, not attractive. Nothing sexual necessarily, you don't need to even touch me. Just looking for someone to have a last pint with. Can travel.

Ken and Linda's invitation was one of the more altruistic ones, an open invitation to their apocalypse party.

All welcome to our "FareWORLD" party! A family farewell, for anyone who needs us. Back paddock at the Johnson estate, on Wakefield Drive. Bring something to share!

Below the text was a black and white photo of an elderly couple, presumably the Johnsons, beaming next to each other at a table in their kitchen.

The invite struck Isaac, and over the next few hours he kept coming back to it. It wasn't anything in the ad itself, though he kept re-reading the four lines for some sort of insight. It was that the invitation had originally been printed in a newspaper. Someone had scanned a copy from what was likely the final edition of their local rag and then uploaded it. The end of the world was announced, and Ken and Linda's first thought had been to make sure everyone had somewhere to be.

Isaac thumbed the lip of his empty whiskey bottle. He had to meet them.

---

"Can you believe they're closed? On today of all days!" the woman huffed, slapping away overly-eager hands as she divvied up bread rolls and deli meat.

Isaac didn't know the woman, whose name was apparently Alissa. One moment he had been sitting alone, and the next she had appeared in a cyclone of children, chatter, and cheese.

"I thought, 'end of the world', you know, 'may as well treat the kids'. And of course what do they want? McDonald's. So we drive out here — we're from the headland you see, no Macca's out that way — so we drive all the way out here… and it's bloody closed!"

"And no one wants to cook on a day like today," Isaac offered. The woman paused partway through buttering a roll and turned to look at him. He kept his expression as bland as possible.

"Ex-act-ly!" she said, shaking the butter knife at him. She sighed heavily and turned back to the rolls. "Well, it is what it is. What are you up to anyway?"

I'm travelling five hours north to spend my final days with complete strangers. For a moment he considered lying. Then he thought of Alex (male, 35), and somehow he found himself telling her everything.

He needed to find something for Ken and Linda. They were throwing a party, and he was invited. She was invited too, if she were interested. But you had to bring something to share. He didn't have anything to share. He thought one of the rest stop stores here might have something, but all of them had been ransacked.

"Ah well, nevermind. They won't mind too much if you show up empty handed, I reckon," Alissa declared. "Probably just looking for people to share their time with more than anything. And who knows, maybe you'll have better luck up the road."

Seeing Isaac stand to go, she held out one of the rolls. He tried to protest, but she just pushed a chicken and cheese sandwich in his hand and waved him off with a smile.

---

Ken and Linda came out to greet him, arm in arm just like in the classified ad. Ken didn't say a word, but shook his hand warmly. Linda fussed over him, firing questions so quickly that she soon knew more about Isaac than almost anyone else in his life. Talking felt strange and unfamiliar, but the more she asked the more openly he answered. He realised this must have been what it was like for all those people sharing themselves online, and he felt himself getting slowly swept away. It was addictive.

And then came the crunch of gravel that signalled a new visitor. Ken and Linda had to leave, and Isaac was left treading water at the edge of the party.

All over the paddock small knots of humanity had formed. He wandered self-consciously around the perimeter, looking for a spot. At one end stood a makeshift stage, a mishmash orchestra of metalheads and classical musicians playing feverishly. Before them, families had spread blankets like islands on the grass. Parents reclined with wine and beer while children skimmed around like little trade ships in the straits the blankets formed, dropping food behind them. Dotted around the archipelago sat couples talking softly to each other, and in the far corner a small group of teenagers clustered under a cloud of smoke.

Isaac nodded to some of the partygoers, who waved back pleasantly enough. Perhaps if he approached them, they would open up and try to accommodate him. But the high from his conversation with Linda was waning and he felt detached and out of place. Finally, he sat alone off to one side and pretended to watch the band.

He thought of the chicken sandwich. He hadn't found anything to share, but Alissa had been right. Linda had just laughed and waved it away when he tried to apologise. Even so, he kept thinking of her pushing the sandwich into his hand, and the gulf between him and everyone else seemed to widen. He wished he had found something, had been able to give something.

Lost in thought, he didn't hear the Johnsons return. He looked up in surprise when Linda rested a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Something got you down, sweetheart?" she asked, crouching beside him.

"Oh, you haven't heard the news?" he replied flippantly.

Linda covered her mouth, and it took Isaac a few moments to process what he'd said. It sounded like something someone affable and outgoing might say. Not him. He watched her shocked face, worried he'd upset her. Then Ken guffawed abruptly, and a grin appeared behind Linda's hand. Soon they were all laughing, Ken in deep heavy barks, Linda in breathless gasps, and Isaac in the hacking snorts he'd always tried to hide.

Finally they were all sitting on the grass, catching their breath and looking up at the sky. He wondered how long it had been since he had made someone laugh. Above, streaks of white and purple lightning began slashing across the night. He smiled.