There was a sound coming from the central square. A sound they’d never heard before, so smooth and soft, so beautiful. There was something in the tones, between the tones that made the world seem like a better place, the sky a bit bluer, the problems lighter to carry. There was a man sitting there. […]
The girl peers inside her closet, then underneath her bed, wondering when something terrifying will happen.
“Tommy said the fear mongers, soul gorgers and dream snatchers come out at ten,” she thinks, “yet I don’t see nothing.”
Feeling bored (and a little disappointed), she sits on the floor and flips on the television, where two self-important men wearing suits, ties and plastic smiles broadcast the end of the world.
“There, that’s more like it.”