[ WP ] Without warning , a national news station broadcasts its emergency `` End of the World '' tape , and cuts to static .

Miranda always left the television on in the living room as she went about her daily routine, the white noise of afternoon talk shows breaking the silence. Voices chattered indistinctly about current events and celebrity lifestyles -- things distant and removed from her own, unremarkable existence. And so the days blurred together. 
 
 The high-pitched blare that erupted from the living room was, like everything else, familiar -- an emergency alert test. Miranda jumped, then composed herself once she realized what it was, laughing at herself for being so silly. And yet -- subconsciously, she began to register the timing, the pitch, the “ rhythm ” of the sound was somehow off. And she began to realize that the recording was n't the one she'd become accustomed to. Could it…? Her heartbeat accelerated as she scurried to the living room. Before she could register what was happening, she found herself gasping as she understood, at the most primal level, deep in her gut, something was wrong. 
 
 “ -- are engaged in a nuclear exchange with Russia. Do not leave your home. Get to a shelter immediately. This is not a test. The United States and NATO allies are engaged in a nuclear exchange with Russia. Do not leave your home. Get to -- ” 
 
 No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Head spinning. Imminent death. I am in the final seconds of my life. Miranda stood stupefied in front of the screen as the message repeated, all too calm. 
 
 What did she have to lose? Her life? She had clung to her half-life, a grey, meaningless existence, always with the hope that someday, something would happen, something would change and she'd do something that really mattered. And now it was being ta ken away from her -- her chance to live. It was n't fair! She was only in her mid-thirties. She had so much time left! And now it was all over, and there was nothing she could do. Miranda wept with the bitter regretfulness of a life wasted. 
 
 ( Before we blame Miranda for failing to “ seize the day, ” a reminder that nuclear armageddon was not particularly her fault, and such things are difficult to plan for ). 
 
 Miranda searched for her phone in a red panic. Her frustration turned to rage as she could n't find it, and she clenched her teeth and wept bitterly, until she heard it buzzing on the counter -- right where she'd left it a moment before, of course. It was Mark. She answered, composing herself as best she could -- not that it mattered at this point. 
 
 “ Oh, Mark. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. ” 
 
 Her husband's voice was a port in the storm. Miranda knew that, as long as she had Mark, she could weather anything, no matter how terrible. His voice trembled and broke, the first time she'd ever heard him scared. 
 
 “ No matter what happens, you know I -- ” His voice was gone. No static, no anticlimax -- just silence. Then the flash of white. 
 
 It was only a fraction of a second, but Miranda glanced at the television, and saw her own reflection -- pupils wide, her once beautiful body heavy and sagging, weighed down by years of missed opportunities and regret.
