When the first pale light of the sun fell upon the roof of the tallest building on East Main Street, barely more than six hours remained. When the townspeople woke, sleepily cursing the regularity of their alarm clocks, even one of those hours had already perished.
Did anyone know that shortly after noon that day, the most awesome power known to man would be unleashed?
The people of the town, heedless of such ultimate ends, went about their daily activities as if the purpose of life were a full stomach and a clean-shaven face. If someone had told them they would meet their maker this day, would they have cared? Perhaps. Would they have changed? Doubtful.
But if someone had said that this was the day they would all render up their souls, it would not have been true. Not all would die this day. Some would live on a little longer, but none would live as long as he thought or believed or imagined.
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