This is the 81st installment of a 100-day challenge to write a new vignette every morning.
As the asteroid hurtled toward Earth, Becky was upset her dentist appointment had been canceled. Now she’d have to go into the apocalypse with a missing filling. It was the end of the world.
She abandoned her car on the highway. Maybe a moped could’ve woven through the stopped traffic, but her jeep definitely couldn’t. She left the keys in the ignition but took the pair of foam dice hanging from the rearview mirror. If she pressed her nose up against them, she could still pick up hints of cigarette smoke.
Becky arrived, on foot, at her dentist’s office. At first, the door wouldn’t budge no matter what she did to it, but when she began to leave a constellation of scuff marks, it opened.
There stood her dentist, holding a half-enpty bottle of rum. She introduced herself. He blinked. She reminded him of their appointment. He blinked. She told him all about how bothersome her little tooth had been—and she asked him to complete the procedure anyway.
He ran a hand over the scruff on his chin. “Okay.”
Miles Away 