Deep summer now, with the asphalt on 43rd Street looking set to boil. 'That man has too much damn luck,' Mrs. Peat was saying. 'Making fun of the crippled like that. Saying he can shoot somebody in the street, and nothing can ever touch him.'

'Did you hear about Martha's cousin Marvin?' Verne Olina said. 'Cops pulled up on him last night coming home from late shift, all about a broken tail light. The boy's all right, but he said there was a moment.'

'Tail light,' Mrs. Peat swore.

'Emaji naratgee marakka,' said Mrs. K. under her breath.

'Strange thing,' Mrs. Peat was saying. 'Martha's Marvin got this letter from the P.D. canceling the ticket. Said it was against policy now, with the consent decree.' Mrs Kalumbo cocked an eyebrow, the way she did when someone tried telling her a joke.

'But remember the big old elm at the corner of 66th and Troy?' Mrs. Peat continued. 'Well, it came down in that terrible storm and tore right through the end house.'

Mrs. K's face fell. 'Cavey and Vanessa, the folks who run the daycare? Are they okay?' Mrs. Peat nodded. 'They weren't hurt, but repairs will run to thirty grand and the insurance only covers half. The city says they'll fine them if they're not back to code in six months.'

'What are they going to do?' Mrs. Peat shrugged. 'Powerball's at five million.'

Mrs. K. said the words again.

'I see we're all still here, so I guess we didn't win that Powerball,' Verne Olina was saying. 'But I did hear Cavey and Vanessa got nineteen thousand from the InstaPlays so they're still here, too.'

All the luck in the world, Mrs. Kalumbo thought. 'Meanwhile I hope you didn't fill that from the tap,' Mrs. Peat said, nodding at the coffee pot, 'because the city says pipes in this block have all got lead.'

'Emaji naratgee marakka,' Mrs. K. intoned. 'What a world to live in,' Verne Olina sighed.

Winter seemed tougher this year than last, like almost every year now, Mrs. K. thought, unless that was just what it felt like getting so old. Holidays were over, the kids come and gone. She still felt marvelously lucky - Mr. K. had not shown up, as she always dreaded, just phoned himself in. The election was over, which was not so lucky, but most people she knew were feeling their way back to their lives. Except for Mrs. Peat.

'The lies, the lies. Biggest inauguration ever - never mind the pictures. Everybody voted for me - never mind the numbers.' The kitchen door cracked open and Verne Olina stomped in, beating snow from her shoulders. 'Guess what I just heard from Alderwoman Murphy,' she sang out. 'The pipes are just fine! They ran another check and there's no lead anywhere. First survey was done wrong, they say.'

This good news escaped Mrs. Peat, who was still carrying on. 'Liar-in-chief. Alternative facts. I guess they think it's their world now.' She looked to Mrs. K. 'What's that thing you always say?'

End times take their time, Mrs. Kalumbo realized. Another summer, winter, then spring into summer again. Fire, flood, gun sprees, catastrophes. Now the government was taking babies from their mothers' arms. Whatever could be next?

'Do you see how that man eats?' Mrs. Peat was saying. 'Extra ice cream for the king. Cheeseburgers, chicken and fries. Tell me where's the xxxxxxxxxx.' Verne Olina rolled her eyes. 'All the luck in the world.'

'He lies in bed and plays with his phone,' Mrs. Peat went on. 'Do you know how easy it would be to xxxxxxxxxx on one of those cheeseburgers?'

Both women were looking at Mrs. K., as if expecting something.

So summer burned through to fall and winter slammed back in, among other changes. Selebra left the service and bought a charter boat. Jaffrey moved into banking. Big news came, and the world shook itself silly for a month or so, claiming nothing could ever be the same, then went back to being the world. End times took their time, always.

'It's seventy-three degrees out there,' Mrs. Peat said, shucking off her parka. 'In February. Buds are starting to pop. Next week we'll get the cold again and everything will die.'

'Never a day without bad news,' Verne Olina said, eyeing Mrs. Peat with meaning. 'Even now.'

Mrs. Kalumbo put on the coffee pot. Emaji naratgee marakka, she thought. There's never more luck than the world can hold.