William went shopping for emergency supplies. He could have done so much more efficiently online, or even with a mail-order catalog. Efficiency at this stage was not the point. He hefted a package marked Survival Candles and opened it to reveal two rows of olive drab-colored wax cylinders. He smelled the wax, felt the wicks, and wistfully imagined himself when the day finally came: waiting out the chaos in his newly-completed bunker, spending a reflective evening editing his manifesto by the light of survival candles. The apocalypse was coming, and William couldn't wait.