A matter of time

The mahogany door of number 37 East Way swung open, causing the snow that had been resting on in to fall on to the doormat. The figure that had opened the door looked out, across the street, and saw an elderly couple being asked questions by a girl in an odd looking hooded cloak.
‘What’s the date?’ she asked impatiently ‘what date is it?’
The elderly couple exchanged glances. How could she not know what the date was?
‘I’m too late,’ she cried, ‘too late.’
It was December the 12th, 2112. The day the world ended.
But let’s go back to the day it all started, the beginning if you like. After all, who starts a story at the end?