Such magnificence, birds spread in flight.
I watch the images every ten seconds through my monitors.
Standard film is 24 frames per second. This is 240 times slower.
A lot can happen in ten seconds.
We’re supposed to watch and count Mexicans trying to sneak across, but we’d rather count rabbits and wolves.
Frozen in time, they look like angels.
Soon, we’ll get a live feed from these Observation Stations. And they will turn the gun turrets back on.
As I said, a lot can happen in ten seconds. It can really mess up your aim.
I’ve got two cans of gasoline in my trunk for the job. They’re awfully light, though.
In fact, they’re… empty? How?
Didn’t I fill them up today?
I run back to the offices. The only way to build new ones is to burn the old ones. Otherwise, you have to wait years for the plans to get approved.
This is madness. I can’t go through with it. I won’t do it. I-
But someone’s beat me to it. Another torch-job, perhaps?
The flames light up the night sky.
What kind of madman does such a thing?
And where’s my lighter?
I look up, and I see the Face Of God in the angry, boiling skies.
I look down, and there’s piles of clothes everywhere. A few unguided cars roll into streetlamps or bushes.
Rapture? Well, isn’t that nice. Bye bye, fundamentalists.
I’m sure that a few houses will start to burn because ovens have been left on. Or planes will crash because pilots have vanished and cockpit doors are locked these days.
My next-door neighbor’s empty Armani suit in a pile. In his driveway.
Next to his lovely, perfect Ferrari.
I may not be Saved, but I am truly blessed.
Things are hard all over, but especially in Europe.
In Rome, taxis have been replaced by rickshaws pulled by starving pensioners.
You can’t walk in London without tripping over three people shining your shoes.
Have problems folding a map in Berlin? Not any more – every petrol station features map-folders for hire.
It’s easy to mistake the purse-snatchers of Paris for the porters and bearers.
But of all the fallen, pity Prague the most. The poor are stripped, painted like statuary, tangled in vines and daisies, and displayed in eight hour shifts.
Sad beasts, lining the grand avenues of yesterday.
I work in a call center and the company owner is really cheap.
Of all the awful things here, the chairs here are the worst. They are old, worn-out, and cause frequent painful injuries.
One guy was speared with a spring and lost a kidney. Another broke a wrist and an ankle when a wheel just completely let go. A third rolled out of a window, never to be seen again.
Bob got it the worst. One day, he’s typing away, and we hear a loud CRACK!
He’s in a wheelchair now. Can’t feel anything below his neck.