If I were doing my laundry, I’d gather up all my dirty clothes and put them in a basket, never thinking of deaths that happen as I live.
I’d grab the laundry card and key and lug my basket out the door, never once gasping in horror at the utter meaninglessness of the universe.
I’d go down the hallway and press the down button of the elevator, never remembering the slow crippling of my planet.
And I’d wait.

Save the world?

I’d get in the elevator and press the button labeled “L”, unaware that one day someone else I love will die.
I’d descend in the elevator and exit when it stopped, unaware that soon everyone I ever knew will be beyond human memory.
I’d go down the hall and into the laundry room, unaware that I will never think as well as this again.
I’d put down my basket and load the clothes into a washing machine, unaware that I will never be this young again.
I’d close the door of the machine and pay it so that it runs, unaware that I am dying.
And I’d wait.

Live?

Then I’d leave the laundry room, walk down the hallway, get in the elevator, press the button labeled “3”, go up, leave the elevator, walk down the hall, open the door, go back to my room,

And wait.