InsaneJournal

Who: Don Draper, Ginny Potter
When: Friday morning
Where: a diner
What: Faced with the apocalypse, Don drinks some coffee
Rating/status: Low / Ongoing




He had woken up to the telephone ringing, and taking a cue from the strange dreams he had been having (locked in a firehouse with the alarm bell constantly going off), he guessed it had been ringing for a while. He groggily answered, the dulcet tones of Conrad Hilton greeting him.

"Welcome to the end of the world,"

"Already?"

"Have you looked outside lately? California's already hearing about it,"

He placed the phone down, considering the possibility of waving this all off as a bad dream and going back to sleep. But something about how quiet it was outside, save for the wailing of a distant siren, stirred him. He crossed to the window and pulled open the curtains.

All of it white. Don rubbed his eyes, groaning. It was too bright. He must've been blinded by a very eager August sun. He opened them again. The buildings and streets were covered in snow and ice. The few people on the streets were wrapped in heavy coats, trudging through what must've been at least two feet of grey snow. If it weren't for the fact that the window was cold to the touch, Don would've been convinced he was dreaming

He picked the phone back up.

"Connie-"

"Wild, isn't it? They're saying it's got something to do with all the hairspray the girls are using. I think it's hooey. They announce we're going to war, and the next day, New York's a Popsicle. I tell you, the end of the world,"

"I'm going to call my wife,"

Well, ex-wife, but that hardly seemed as urgent. Betty answered in a panic, but the children were fine, and enjoying being able to build a snowman in the middle of the summer. He then called Sterling-Cooper, though nobody answered. This seemed as good a reason as any to stay home from work.

So wrapping himself up in what winter clothes he had that weren't in storage, he made his way down to the coffee shop on the corner. He sat in a booth, and stared blankly out the window. Maybe Connie was right. Maybe it was the end of the world.

Well, he might as well have a cup of coffee.