Black Bird

1:50 PM

The air here is thick with humidity. Every breath I take gets caught in my throat and I have to try harder to breathe. Still, it's better up here on the hill than down there in town.
It's no secret that the town is bursting at the seams. The mayor can't keep up with the necessary upgrades to accommodate the influx of people that have been moving in to our little town.

The large apple tree that grows, up on this small hill has been my escape from the smothered streets of the town. Even with the humidity I can breathe easier here. I lay down on the lush grass, tucking my hands behind my head and looking up into the empty sky.

1:59 PM

Relaxed, but awake. I breath in. Then release.

2:00 PM

I blink.

4:00 PM

The sun suddenly blinds me. I squeeze my eyes shut, slightly disoriented. I push my hands into the cool grass and sit up, blinking hard to get the imprinted white void out of my field of view. I run my hands back through my hair, pushing it out of my face before dragging my hands down across my cheeks as I let out a sharp breath. I raise my glossy phone screen into sight; 4:00 PM it reads. I couldn’t have fallen asleep right? I only blinked, and now I feel utterly exhausted.

4:20 PM

I'm back in the main street that runs through the core of town. Where market stalls are lined up and down the sidewalk. You can find anything from food, to clothes, to pets or even livestock. My favorite stall sits about half way down the street. They sell handmade trinkets; like something you can't find anywhere else. Each piece is delicately crafted and completely unique.
Something is different though; not quite how it should be. Like a single hitch in the quilt. That one thread that holds everything together is about to unravel.

4:30 PM

I hand three dollars to the old English lady that sells hot tea from a stall. Abigail, or Edith, or something. Her usual smile is gone. Just a vacant hard-line rests on her face as she hands me a steeping hot cup of orange pekoe. I breathe in the aromatic smell as I sit on the cement staircase that leads into the town's library.

Coming out of my thoughts, and pushing the weary haze back, I look around at the people interacting in the street. I get this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Its deafeningly quiet. Everyone seems to have lost all character and the color has drained from their faces. The usual market hustle full of excitedness, and at the odd times anger, is all but dead. Everyone seems beside themselves, their robotic motions imitating life.
A black crow perches itself on the light post across the street and lets out a deep rattling

CA-CAW.

The sound jolts me. I look down to my hands, tightening my grip on the cup but my hands collapse in on themselves; the cup is gone. My breath stops in my throat. I latch my fingers into my hair and squeeze, as if the tension will help pull my thoughts into stability.
It doesn’t.

5:00 PM

I hear a shuffle in the street, rocks giving way to heavy footsteps. Many footsteps, in unison. I stand and take a step into the street.
I freeze.

Dozens of government forces flood into the street, many of them breaking off into the buildings. All carrying guns; their eyes down the sights. They're searching. I can't move. My mind fights my body for control.

No one in the market is phased. Their movements seeming less natural with every glance. Why aren't they running? Screaming? That’s when I notice the masks. Each soldier has a type of gas mask. They look menacing, and I can't see their faces. Everything around me feels dehumanized.

5:10 PM

They’re close now. The townsfolk still abnormally unaware. The soldiers don’t even seem to notice the citizens either. One stops near me. I feel naked now; shell-less. He talks on his radio to someone.

“Operation Black Bird is successful; all targets have been eliminated. All other lifeforms are stable. No casualties.”

I try to turn to run, but trip over my feet. I'm falling now, forwards, towards the soldier. He stands there unaware. I hold my hands out to brace myself, and as I do I realize it's no use, he won't catch my impact.

I have no impact.

My hollow form slips through the being.

Past time.

Into the abyss below.

00:00