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Shar slowly let go of both the breath and the walls that she'd been holding and took a tentative step forward. Everything seemed to be okay.
Rose petals drifted and danced through the air to land delicately at her feet. The table in front of her still held the vase of roses they came from, undisturbed, as well as a glass of ice water and a single slice of cake. Everything seemed to be okay.
Books had fallen from the bookshelf, and they lay strewn about on the floor, open to random pages. Trinkets and knick-knacks had fallen too, but none of them seemed to be damaged. The carpet had protected their fall. Everything seemed to be okay.
A glow from the window drew her forward, and what she saw through it had the hazy quality of a dream. Hard to take in, hard to understand. Everything was not okay.
Shar stood for a minute or two, or five, or ten, processing, deliberating, then began to pick up the fallen books and trinkets that lay haphazardly on the floor. It was easier to deal with light housework than the idea of an apocalypse right at that moment. The other could wait. The world would still be here tomorrow. Or not. Whichever it was, she could find out tomorrow.