In a large apartment high above the city lives our couple. Theyre in love. Shes a painter, hes a successful actor. Just a normal afternoon – except that this isnt a normal afternoon, for them or anyone else. Because tomorrow, at 4:44 am, give or take a few seconds, the world will come to an end far more rapidly than even the worst doomsayer could have imagined. The ?nal meltdown will come, not without warnings, but with no means of escape. There will be no survivors.
As always, there are those who, as their ?nal cigarette is being lit and the blindfold tightened, will still hope against hope for some kind of reprieve. For a miracle. Not our two lovers. They – like the majority of the Earths population – have accepted their fate; the world is going to end.