Saw a White Jetta this morning with a Black bumpersticker that read, simply, "End of the World" (looked like Albertus font, with "of" over "the"). There was a meek-looking man in a plaid shirt driving, with a large wooden cross hanging from his mirror. He looked at me as I passed, having been with him for the mile or so since I made my daily illegal turn into the lane next to his from my ramp before the intersection. I wondered where he was off to work, and why he'd even feel the need these last days of ours.