The glass shattered and the window rained down and collected on the green and beige tile floor. Dale sipped his coffee. The heat began to rise. Last night was a long haul and he took his time getting out of bed. The clock on the wall showed close to four p.m. The television screen was distorted, blurry, and the newscaster had no idea.
“In the last several days,” the voice on the screen delivered, “the number of suicides has jumped significantly. Compared to the accumulative reports of suicide rates in the last ten years, this has set an all new precedent, and I am afraid to say that these recent reports of suicide have risen considerably for the younger generations . . .”
Dale heard a siren. Then he heard screaming. More sirens. He heard gunfire. He heard angry shouting. Then he heard running, more running, crying, more glass breaking in the distance. He sipped his coffee. He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke straight up in the air. It lingered above his head like a fog.
Outside the dogs were loose from their homes and were shitting on the sidewalks and cross breeding with each other. Some fought with each other. Blood and shit smeared the pavement. A sedan with fire pouring from underneath the hood slowed down in front of the coffee shop and exploded. The debris showered in through the broken windows and Dale covered his coffee with his hand. The television was shifting from color to black and white amongst the static.
“Police are trying to calm the panic in the streets . . . Local zoos have vacated . . . Storefronts have been overthrown . . . Reports show similar occurrences are happening in just about every major city across the country . . . Those of you watching, take warning and seek shelter . . .”
The gunfire was close. Dale smiled. School was out. No more vacations, no more clichés, no more teachers, no more you know the rest. Tonight he’ll walk into a grocery store and walk out with a couple cases of room temperature beer and no one will ask questions, they’ll be far too concerned with the outcome of it all. Like a girl who’s late on her period, they’ll all sit and wait with hope that their prayers were with good intentions, and in the end we will all be safe and secure. Dale was the only one who was at ease. No one noticed.
Author: Lawrence Goodwin
