![]() He looks about my age, putting him at twenty or so. He has shaggy brown hair, too long for my taste, and a pleasant face. “What?” I ask with a sigh, finally looking over at him. ![]() “Ah,” he says, coming around the couch and sitting down on the opposite end. I keep my eyes on the screen, hoping he’ll get the hint. ![]() “Is this the History Channel?” the guys asks as he leans over the back of the couch and squints at the screen. So far people have been too busy with getting to and from class to be bothered even glancing at the screen. I’m sitting on the couch in the common room of my apartment complex watching TV. “No.” I say, not bothering to turn around. I close my eyes briefly when the voice comes from over my shoulder. The system has entirely broken down, all checks and balances lost in the mad chaos of the impossible made real. No rescue vehicle could cleanly make it through, not that there’s anyone left to drive them. The streets are filled with cars parked at haphazard angles and debris broken away from the burning buildings. The sirens can wail all they like, no one is coming. They turn once tall, proud structures into smoldering rubble. ![]() Fire alarms blare through the silence as flames lick and devour anything that will burn. Smoke billows up into the sky in lazy tendrils, reaching into the clear blue and marring its perfection. ![]()
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