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Beaches have an irresistible way of becoming packed. People crowd to see waves crawl across a sandy shore. In my opinion, night beaches are best. Not that it would have mattered today anyways, it being the end of the world and all. I would have spent the whole day there, but I had things to do. Society doesn't want to leave their homes, even though the bursting sun would evaporate everything in the solar system. Four timber walls wooden do much in the form of protection. Ha. Sorry for the pun, couldn't contain myself. There are also the looters. No sense running around stealing stuff when it's not going to last more than a day. No, I took to the beaches. This is going to be the last sunset I'll ever see, and I want it to be as beautiful as possible. I took her with me, the most sensible patch of Estrogen on the planet. She's scared though, I don't really blame her. I'm a little scared myself. We drove to California for this day, I'm not chickening out now, not after I've come this far. The sands are black, the complete opposite of the postcards, can't expect much less from forty-two years of heavy pollution. She brings some fold-up chairs out of the trunk, good idea, but I want to stand. The sun has taken a green hue as it begins the slow descent into black ocean waters. A wet spot gathers on my shoulder, she has begun to cry. I cradle the sensible girl in my arms. Soft words escape my lips, but my eyes never leave that abominable orb dangling from a thing strand of hope. Red light reflects upon our skin. The horizon shrinks compared to Sol's sudden expansion. Red turns to yellow, yellow to blue. Conglomerations of colors flash an epileptic's nightmare. I realize now she is sobbing horribly, her head hidden in my neck. My lips brush hers, and softly I whisper, "I love you."