Part One
Part One of a story I've had brewing in my head the past few days.
(all three parts now double spaced to redue eye-rape)



I had overslept. A night of bad dreams and sweaty sheets, and now my alarm

hadn’t gone off. Fuck. My now open blinds revealed a beautiful summer

morning, early enough that the sun isn’t baking you, but high enough in the

sky to make the world look perfect. Ten thirty in the morning and my alarm

clock was dead. I climb out of bed and, as quickly as my groggy body could,

shuffled to the bathroom. Hit the switch. Power’s out. Fantastic, at least I

have an excuse. Hot water hisses out of the head. I jump in. Lather, rinse,

repeat. Dry, brush, deodorize, hurry up, you’re late. Boxers, black dress

pants, tucked work shirt, have to look good for the customers. No time for

breakfast. The neighborhood is no different; a lot of cars sit in their

driveways, though. Guess everyone lost their power, maybe coming in late

won’t be so bad. The Honda starts without a problem, and I speed off. Switch

from CD to AM, maybe the news has something. Every station is dead air,

that’s a bit spooky. I don’t remember any storms last night. My dreams were

weird, half remembered now, unnatural forms moving, writhing, speaking in

strange ways. However I never once woke up, the sleep was deep, but far from

restful. It had been hot; I know my AC was on. Maybe the grid blew, it’s

possible, but this must be a monumental scale, as I wasn’t getting stations

in New York, Philly, and everywhere in between. Terrorism? I’m not big on

yellow journalism, and I don’t like jumping to those kinds of conclusions,

but it’s another explanation. Very few people on the roads, most of them

don’t seem to be going anywhere specific, just driving, lost, confused,

weird. Am I still dreaming? No, I never dream this vivid, this real. The

parking lot is empty. I work on the floor of one of the big chain electronic

stores. TVs? Not my department. Computers? In the back, ma’am. You want a

DVD, a CD, a game? I’m your man. If you want to meet cute girls at work,

don’t bother. My manager’s sitting on his hood on the lone car in the lot. I

pull up, roll down my window.
“Power’s out, you’re the first one here, actually.”
“All the radio stations are dead, this is freaky.”
“Yeah, see you on your next shift?”
“Working Friday?”
“Yeah.”
“See ya then.”
Drive off, roll the window back up. Hadn’t bothered trying my cell phone. I

pull over and turn it on. No signal, no surprise.