6 P.M.

Sorry, if for you this is a double post, just wanted to share a (very) short story.


It's set to 70 degree. No humidity, and there hasn't been any snow all week. I've got the seat warmer set to low for her, just like she likes. It's still 5 minutes to six, no reason to expert her to be here for at least a few more minutes. I left my meeting, another meeting, early just to be here. I didn't want her to have to walk home alone. Its only a few blocks, but with how quickly the weather changes, I just thought I'd be a good husband today. I'm just sitting in my car, waiting for my girl.

The clock has got to be the slowest object. It is just pacing itself, it seems, when the first flash lights up my rear view mirror. Something struck against the corner building on the end of the block, other side of the street. Something large. The sound floods all my senses a half a second later. The wave of energy lifts my vehicle on two wheels, then lets it go back down, like it was a radio-flyer wagon. 

I turn to look, once I know my arms and legs are attached. Something, large and gray, and smooth. And it is just burning, everything is burning. 

I took three quick looks before the shots came from my left. Right across the street. Two men in masks came running out, carrying what looked like a young girl. You couldn't see her through the tears. She was alive, and the men held her as tightly as the plastic bags wrapped tightly around what I assumed were the contents of the bank safe. The police confronted them almost immediately, pulling triggers. I watched as all three, two men and a child, face obscured by sadness…fell.

5:58. It happened right as the seven twisted into an eight, the old tower, as would be expected, fell and crashed, coming down hard on power lines and gas lines, entire gas tanks, the force of the explosion it created almost seemed to push the tower back up. But nothing could stop that behemoth. It ripped and fell, just short of the corner drug store. 

Everything was burning by a minute to six. I could see all the way back, that the block to the south was fighting off some kind of alien take-over. And the block ahead of me was falling into the kind of sink-hole I've only seen in books. Just as cracks started appearing along the median, she strolled out. Her footsteps quickly swallowed up by the earth. She always looked good in those boots. I reached over to pull the handle, and she hopped up, so gracefully. 

I put the slightest pressure down onto the gas, and we eased out. I signaled a left turn, she applied some lip-stick so softly I didn't even notice, and we went over the bridge into an uncertain future.