Howard Galloway rummaged through the dark living room. Circling the coffee tables' fruit platter in search of food. There were no cookies to gobble nor milk to drink, which suited him just fine, as he had no presents to leave behind either. His footsteps clinked and thumped without an ounce of finesse, knocking into the wooden furniture and scrapping the ground noisily.

The light flicked on and the man froze on the spot. He turned slowly to face the ragged judgement of his old friend.

Timothy Kleve stood at the bottom of the flight of stairs in a ruffled shirt and boxer shorts, maroon hair greying from age, skin hardened from years. At fifty-four years old, he was a head taller and better built than the scrawny teenager that once saved the universe.

Timothy greeted, "Old man," though Howard looked three decades younger. "What are you doing here? And would you keep it down? Milton's still sleeping."

Howard held out an apple, "Do you have any bananas?"


"Well you should. Good source of vitamin B."

"I'll make a note on that," Tim stretched himself as he moved to sit on the long couch.

Howard sat on the lone recliner. "So, where were we?"

"Last I saw you, you came to tell me how my powers worked. That was what? Five years ago?" Tim sank into the cushion and yawned. "What about you? What have you been doing?"

"I just came back from your future," the time traveller replied. "Your future self says today is the day you made the prediction."

"Yeah. Who knew the whole Sin thing would give me the powers to predict the future," Tim admitted, a tone of remorse in his voice. "One hundred and thirty nine years to the end of the world. That's what Leah translated it as."

"Smart girl."

"I know. That's why I hired her."

"I thought the Forum made you."

"Same difference," Tim stretched again, his bones creaking like the rusted hinges of a door. "Where are you off to next?"

"End of the world. Going to check out what's causing all these problems. Hopefully I can knock it right this time," the librarian got to his feet. "Just dropping in on old friends. Saying goodbye and all that."

Tim asked, "Last time I'll be seeing you?"

"Last time you'll be seeing me," Howard replied.

Tim nodded solemnly before following to stand. "Wait here, I've got something for you," he headed back up the stairs and disappeared into the landing. After a couple of minutes of feet tapping and show tunes whistling, Tim came back down with a camcorder in hand. He passed the device to Howard. "Remember this?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, I already know what to do with it."

Tim bobbed his head in approval. "Listen, Howard. The number one-three-nine, it has been popping up this whole time. Vashmir wrote it as the days to the end of the world, and now Milton has a hundred and thirty-nine years. I don't think those are coincidence."

Howard gave a nod of agreement, and the two remained in silence over that knowledge.

From upstairs, a woman called out, "Tim?"

Tim turned away from Howard and to the voice, "That's Sally. She'll want to-" he turned back, but Howard was gone. "Asshole," Tim cursed the man one last time.

Author's Note: Hi everyone. Thank you for reading 139: In Evening. The story here is a re-upload of the original serial that ran on JukePop Serials in 2015. If you like what you've read so far, and would like to support my writing, you can buy one of my books at my website, including a full edit version of In Evening which includes new chapters and an additional short story. If you really like what you've read and would like to help me write for a longer term, check out my Patreon. Of course, just sharing, liking, reviewing, and commenting helps a great deal as well.

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