Peak Oil

A plane pierced the silence of the morning calm. It darted across the blue sky mingled with the orange color emitted from the rising sun. Dew nestled along the suburban grass began to slide towards the earth and sink into the soil. Footsteps made their way past and the morning commute began. The coughs of car engines were nonexistent in this modern America, only the rich had that luxury.


People were instead lined up at bus stops, counting their change or arousing their digital media players to find the right tune for the day. Every bus station was now a depot for commuters and every bus was full leaving commuters standing on crowded buses in inhumane conditions. There was nothing to be done, technology was moving too slowly and the price of oil had far surpassed it.


The day continued to move on, but he had barely moved. The clock suddenly rose to life and began to scream at him “Good Morning LA. It’s 8.45 on June 3rd, 2015 and boy is it hot outside. The temperature is expected to reach at least 114 today in the Valley so be careful. In other news, the FBI has released a report stating that crime in the Los Angeles Metro Area has drastically increased since 2010 with nearly 9,361 burglaries for every 100,000 people, this makes Los Angeles the most dangerous metropolis in America. Many blame the spike in crime on the increase in fuel prices which on average has reached $9.47 throughout the country. Now to traffic, the Harbor Transitway is slow moving due to an accident at Slauson…” His hand smacked the front of his clock to turn it off; it tumbled to the floor in a great crash.


He rolled his closed eyes and kicked the blanket off of his bed as the cold air of the night had since been gone and the hot summer temperature was rising in his room. The sunlight had soon entered through his open window and he was forced to wake up. Knowing he had to work at 10 he didn’t mind waking up early enough to get things done. He slowly raised his body from the bed with black sheets and white pillows, he looked around his room and realized that no one was home they had all left for work. He looked out of the window and stared at the sky, it was pure blue now without a cloud in sight. He thought to himself that today would be a great day and he didn’t want to waste it.


Grabbing his phone he considered calling in sick so that he wouldn’t waste such a great day at work, instead he texted his friends and planned to hang out at Universal City Walk later that day. He put his phone down beside him on the bed and walked away. His footsteps left impressions on the floor’s carpet as he walked about in his small room. There was silence around him, his suburban home felt like an isolated community and at certain times of the day he would feel completely alone. Suddenly there was laughter from outside as a few kids were making their way to school, he threw socks on the bed and walked out of his room.


The empty house echoed as he ran down the stairs into the kitchen to pour himself some cereal. The white walls in the kitchen showed his shadow as he walked from the refrigerator to the counter with his bowl of corn flakes, he stared down and listened to the crackling of his breakfast before he pulled the white headphones to his ears and listened to his iPod. Watching television was too expensive especially since the electricity bills had more than doubled in the last year because of the oil crisis.


He looked at the time on his iPod and realized it was 9.15 and he was almost late, he threw the bowl into the empty sink and ran upstairs to take a shower. A plane rumbled above as he made his bed and grabbed his clothes to take with him into the bathroom. He rushed through the hallway to get to the bathroom. The water began to run and he stripped down to hop in.


He walked out of the bathroom in his uniform gray collared shirt, black pants and black shoes. He threw his towel on the bed and grabbed a bag to fill it with clothes that he could wear with his friends after work. Looking at the clock he realized it was already 9.40 and he was late. Grabbing his bag and his keys he ran out of the house. Running past the milk he had forgotten to put back into the refrigerator. The door slammed behind him and the door was locked.
He walked to the car and got in, starting the ignition he sighed with relief as the air conditioner blew cold air on him. He had started to sweat from the hot air outside. He fixed his jet black hair in the mirror and pulled out of his driveway. He opened a bottle of water as he stopped for a few kids at an intersection. He turned the radio on to listen to the traffic on his way to work, the clock read 9.49 and he began to worry.


“…as we’ve been reporting for the last twenty minutes there has been an explosion at the intersection of Wilshire and Westwood. It’s been confirmed that one building has collapsed due to the explosion and there are reports that it was the headquarters of Occidental Petroleum. We don’t know any other information at the moment other than that the LAFD is evacuating the entire area. Please do not come to the Westwood area…”


He was fairly rattled by the news because he had heard rumors of people planning on attacking gas and oil companies and knew this wasn’t good news. He sighed as he passed the Wilshire Blvd exit and saw the smoke billowing from the street, the traffic had nearly stopped as people were slowing down to look and others were rushing on to the highway to get away from the area. He sat and stared as his car slowly made its way south. The gray air suddenly hovered above the highway and cut off the perfect blue sky.


He finally made his way through the tie up and began to accelerate, every few seconds there was an ambulance or a fire truck speeding and flashing in the opposite direction. He wished that no one had been hurt but he knew that was unrealistic as the workday had already started and the building would have been full at the time. The car signaled to exit and make its way to Venice Blvd and slowly merged onto the ramp downward.


Minutes later he pulled into an ARCO gas station. Grabbing his bag and water bottle he closed and locked the doors behind him. The automatic doors slip open to welcome him into the air conditioned mini mart and he walked to the back after saying hello to the cashier. He opened his locker and pushed his bag in and grabbed his key for the cash register. The dim light flickered above his head and he thought it was odd because it was just replaced.


He walked out to the front of the store and began talking to the cashier who was ending her shift. She had heard about the explosion and said that the television had reported that PASS (Patriotic Americans for a Sustainable Society; a radical group that wanted all oil companies to cease business practices) had claimed responsibility for the explosion and that there had been other bombings in Houston, Chicago, and Washington, D.C. She said they warned of more bombings and that no one who supported the “imperialistic actions of oil corporations that molest our planet and destroy the lower social classes” would be safe. They got into a conversation about the bombing and if it would help the growing problem in America. Someone walked in and bought a bag of skittles and paid $3.


Soon his co-worker had to leave and he was left alone in the store. He had to update the gas price sign and took out the digital touch screen as he logged into the BP network he looked at the sky that was now gray with smoke. He pressed the numbers on the screen in order to update them for the weekend. Regular was $9.84, Plus $9.96, Premium $10.13, and Ethanol $6.32 he saved the numbers and watched the digital signs outside change numbers.
He grabbed his water bottle and finished it; he threw it in the recycle bin. He thought to himself about how glad he was that his car was a hybrid and that he used ethanol because it would be impossible for him to get to school and work if he had to pay regular prices. He glanced outside to watch someone pull up and pay for ethanol, he waved to the man as he approved his transaction through the computer. He switched screens and went back to reading an article online about the shrinking market of gas stations around the country and how BP had closed 13% of its gas stations in America since February because it was not making money.


He smiled as the robot scooted past him cleaning the floor; he almost stepped on it because it was so small. He turned on the television to watch the coverage of the bombings across the country the president was supposed to make a speech in a few hours and it was going to be from an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico.


His phone suddenly lit up and it was his mother, she told him that her office was being evacuated because of a bomb threat and that she was going to leave and go home. He suddenly felt a sense of fear and began to worry if something could have happened to her. He texted his sister and told her to go home because she was out with some friends in Hollywood for the day. She responded by saying that the buses were too crowded and she was going to try and catch the Red Line and wait for him at Universal City.


He put his phone down to see someone pulling into the gas station. Then another car pulled into the station. Two men exited their vehicles and walked into the store. He greeted them and then turned back to the television. The men never made eye contact and slowly walked through the aisles. He looked up at the two men after a few seconds because it was oddly silent in the store.


He saw them standing next to each other staring back at him. He asked if he could help them and they didn’t respond. He began to get goose bumps and the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. Suddenly a minivan pulled into the gas station. Four kids jumped out and ran into the store screaming about getting candy, they where all wearing soccer uniforms that were covered in dirt followed by a mother who seemed frazzled by the day she had. Stopping to ask him where the Starbucks drinks were. He told her and then glanced back at the two men and asked them again. They broke into laughter and he felt relieved. Both of the men walked out of the store and walked back to their cars. He began to look at the kids who were yelling for slushees. He then locked back at the cars to see they had not yet driven off.


They had both opened their trunks and were reaching over for something; he thought it was odd they were both doing the same thing. Then they yelled something through the glass but he couldn’t hear over the loud kids. Suddenly there was a large bang and he was pushed to the floor behind a shower of glass. His back started to burn uncontrollably and there were screams all around him.


The building turned into a massive fireball that could be seen and felt from miles away. The fire department couldn’t get to the area for ten minutes because they were across town helping the collapse. The bright orange glow roared on for hours as the fuel beneath the gas station hemorrhaged out into flames. When the fire was put out there was nothing left, the fuel had destroyed everything in its path. There were no remains and everything had completely melted. In an instant it had all disappeared.

update

more writing arriving in June.

Thief

London Underground II
Originally uploaded by Andy Gosling

He stood at the platform of the Burnt Oak London Underground station above Watling Ave, looking at the his gold watch his mother had given him for a Christmas present last year, he could see that the time was 12:00. The night sky above his head covered darkness around the entire London area. A recent snowstorm had just ended hours earlier but the cold air still carried through the city.

A train had pulled in behind him; turning his head he recognized the trademarked colors of the Underground. The new trains with the white and blue sidings and the red sliding doors made him feel as if her were in some futuristic world set decades ahead. The doors slid open and people began to disembark the train. The computer operated address system went off and he stood annoyed at the sound of the woman’s voice.

“This is…Burnt Oak…This is an Edgware bound Northern train. The next and last station is Edgware…Please stand clear of the closing doors.” Moments later the piercing sound of the train’s door warning system went off. The doors closed and the train took off, leaving him alone once again.

He looked down at Watling Ave to see the people leaving the station; some were catching private cabs waiting outside while others were waiting for the N5 or N16 night buses to carry them home. He looked down the platform waiting for others to coming to catch the last southbound train of the night; it was now 5 minutes late and he began to worry he was going to miss his connection at Embankment.

The lights soon appeared from the north of the station and he walked closer to the edge of the platform and kicked some of the snow off of his shoes as he prepared to enter the train that had just pushed the wind against his body. The train slowly came to a stop although the brakes always sounded as if they were struggling. The pressurized air pushed the wide doors open and he walked onto the train that was noticeably warmer than waiting on the platform.

“This is…Burnt Oak…This is a Morden bound Northern train via Charing Cross. The next station is…Colindale. Please mind the closing doors” said the woman over the announcements. The signal to close the doors began to ring as someone ran up the stairs making it into the next car as soon as the doors had slammed shut. The train jerked forward and he began his journey into Central London on his way home from a birthday party of his cousin’s.

Leaning his head back he began to register his surroundings on the train. An old Caribbean woman, possibly in her 60’s was on the end of the car knitting something. She was sitting next to her granddaughter who had fallen asleep in her lap. The woman glanced up at him and then looked down to continue on her fashion project.

He slowly drifted to sleep as the train slowed to pull into Colindale; he saw the lights from the tall towers that the Metropolitan Police owned. The train pulled in and no one boarded, he was fast asleep as the train continued its journey into London. The hood from his sweater slowly dropped from the top of his head as the train quickly moved through a short tunnel to the next station. He began to feel cold because his black hair was so short from a cut he had gotten earlier that day.

His black phone lit up as the train pulled itself from out of the tunnel and gradually came to another stop. The orange screen lit up alerting him that he had received a new text message while he was underground. The time on his phone read 12:11 and seconds later the screen once again went black. The doors opened and closed for a few more stops down the route.

He was awoken by a cold wind that blasted through the train as it sat in a station. He wiped his mouth as he naturally did when he woke up. Looking around he saw that the he was at Golders Green, the last stop before the train entered the underground tunnels of Inner London. The old woman and her younger travelling partner were seen at the stairs slowly making their way up.

The door alarm soon went off and the train made its way underground. He looked at his phone to see that it was 12:14. He read the text as the train entered the tunnel and the lights began to flicker. He grinned as it was a message from his roommate saying that there was a call from the job interview he had before going to the party. He had just been hired for an accounting position in a stock firm in Canary Wharf.

He drifted back off to sleep as a grin covered his face. The train quickly made its way through the century old tunnels beneath London. The lights suddenly went off between stations as they quickly moved further and further south. He wasn’t aware as his sleep prevented him from being aware of anything around him. The train jerked to a stop as it usually does when it gets closer to the busier stations.

Slowly he gained consciousness and realized that the train wasn’t moving and the lights were off. Being accustomed to the behavior of the trains at this time of night he didn’t panic or worry, he just sat still in the seemingly empty train. Minutes passed and he became annoyed as he worried about missing his next train at Embankment.

Looking at his phone for the time, he saw that it was 12:30. He sucked his teeth while placing the T-Mobile phone back into the clip hanging from his belt. Silence once again covered the entire train and he closed his eyes.

Moments later there was a faint sound of someone calling his name. He ignored it as his own imagination and kept his eyes closed. Goosebumps raised on the skin of his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck slowly raised by themselves. He suddenly felt as if he weren’t alone, as if someone had just walked onto the train with him.

At this point he was too scared to open his eyes, and forced them to stay closed. A cold wind brushed against his face and he clenched his teeth and pulled his hands into fists as his palms became sweaty. There was a tap on his right shoulder and he slowly opened his eyes to see an old man sitting in the seat in front of him. The man was staring straight at him but was motionless; he began to sweat and didn’t know what he was imagining.

Suddenly the man began to cough and vomit on the floor in front of him; he couldn’t tell what the man was throwing up as the train still was dark. The man fell onto the floor and began screaming his name in between purges. He stood up and began to run to the end of the car to press the button and alert the conductor.

Just then the lights turned back on and the train began to move. He turned around to see that there was no one in the car with him. He sat back down to try and gain back his composure, the train pulled into Charing Cross and people began entering the train. A young teen sat in front of him and asked if he was alright, since it was odd for someone to be sweating while the snow had begun to fall again outside. He assured the young man that he was fine and leaned his head back onto the window as the train pulled off again.

“This is…Embankment…change here for the Circle, District, and Bakerloo lines. Upon Arrival the doors in the last two cars will not open, please move forward to exit at this station” announced the computer once again. He stood up to the doors as the train pulled into Embankment. The train gradually came to a stop and opened its doors and he ran to the District/Circle Line Platforms.

He walked to the platform to see that it had been completely emptied. He looked at his watch and it was 12:40, the last District line was scheduled for 10 minutes prior. He figured that all of the trains were running late and decided to wait. Images of what had just happened on the train filled his head as he sat on the bench next to the wall. A soft sound of whistling began to get louder and louder, he thought it might have been the train and stood up to walk to the edge of the platform.

Looking down the tracks he didn’t see anything but the sound had gotten stronger. He began to walk to upstairs to the ticket hall exit in order to catch a night bus to get home. He started to feel nervous as the whistling still gained strength as he walked away from the platform and up the stairs. It felt as if it were behind him, following him.

His heart dropped when he walked into the ticket hall to discover that it had been emptied and the gates were padlocked. His heart began to pound and he started to sweat again, he ran to the Help Point against the wall and began pounding on the button. The speaker produced the sound of a ring; he waited as it continued to ring. The sound echoed through the station and it bounced back and forth; there was no answer.

He began pounding on the padlocked and screaming at the dozens of CCTV cameras in the one hallway. He decided to go back down to the platforms in order to see if maybe there was someone to help, or if there was a working Help Point. He began running down the stairs to get to the platform level when he heard someone scream “Hey You!” He turned to see a black figure standing at the top of the stairs and out of shock fell ten feet to the bottom where he slammed his head onto the side of the escalator and began bleeding.

Looking back up the stairs to see who was there, he was frightened to see that the object had gone. He knew no one was up there within five seconds of him leaving. He stood up holding his hand to the cut in the back of his head. There was the sound of a train on the District platform, he ran to catch it knowing he didn’t miss the last train.

He ran to the platform to see no train and no people. He screamed as tears ran down his face, he wiped his bloody hands onto his shirt and sat down on one of the benches. He started to hear screaming off in the distance. It was as if someone was being attacked, he shuttered as the screams of horror suddenly stopped. He heard water starting to fall onto the tracks in front of him; he looked up to see the floor covered in blood a river of blood quickly passing beneath his feet.

He saw something on the platform across from him, on the other side of the tracks, the same old man from the train. The man looked up from the floor and waved to him, the man began to stand from his seat and walk over to the edge of his platform.

He didn’t know what he was seeing, the old man pointed to him and jumped onto the tracks just in time for a train to slam into him. He jumped in his seat, confused on where a train came from.

He jumped up screaming, he’d been awoken by the train slamming on its brakes and opening the doors. “This is…Golders Green” announced the computer as the train arrived. The Caribbean woman stopped and asked him if he was okay. He didn’t know and he stepped off of the train asking her where to catch the night bus to Embankment.

The train doors closed behind him and he thought he heard a scream as the train entered the tunnel making its way under Central London. Weeks later he’d discovered that the job that he received was to replace an elderly man who was one year away from retirement. He was fired that night and rather than facing his family he jumped in front of a Circle Line train at Embankment.

Alternative

New York Subway Tunnels
Originally uploaded by SecondHand

The dark cloud ascended from the streets of Newark unnoticed by those in the much larger city of New York. Even the large towers covered any sight of it from the city. He switched on his television; the latest news on Britney Spears was the top story. He stared at the screen blankly waiting for the weather to slide its way into the news. The sky was already dark with clouds and he predicted rain, sitting on his couch in blue boxers and a t shirt the weather finally presented itself. He had already started putting gel into his hair to get ready for work. He was sitting alone in his studio apartment sitting in Queens with dull white walls and the one painting his sister had made for him before she moved to attend art school in London.

He stood and stretched and soon walked out of the room to get dressed. Some reporter was speaking about a fire in New Jersey as he walked away. Getting dressed he heard thunder outside and looked at the window, he grabbed his umbrella yet there was no rain yet. Minutes later he grabs his keys and walks out of the door. He looks up at the dark sky as he begins to make his way to the train station. The air was oddly smoky like there was a barbeque somewhere close. He walks through the streets as the wind picks up and begins to burn his eyes.

Sirens make their presence known as the horns scream from blocks away. He looks to his left and sees over a dozen fire trucks rushing through the rush hour traffic. He’d never seen them moving so fast; the wind from the trucks as they passed pushed him to the side. Soon the crossing light gave him permission to continue, he crossed the street and descended into the subway below.

He stood on the platform awaiting the arrival of his train, the station was crowded and he stood behind a woman who was waving to someone from another platform across from them, the younger companion waved goodbye as his train pulled in splitting the two, soon the train pulled out leaving the station oddly quiet. An announcement over the speakers interrupted the unusual silence; it soon informed everyone that the trains were being delayed because of an ongoing incident in the city. He heard and placed his headphones in his ears already knowing that he was going to be late for work.

A train pulled in, it wasn’t his people made their way past the other commuters who weren’t leaving quite yet. He became annoyed as a second train pulled into the station and again it wasn’t his. This train was also packed and people began to become hostile as they tried to push their way onto the train, a fight broke out further down the platform and the police had arrested someone as the doors forced themselves closed leaving people’s faces rubbing against the Plexiglas windows on the doors.

Soon his train slowly made its way into the station, he was luckily placed right in front of one of the doors, and he moved aside to let people off and soon pushed his way onto the train. He made it to the middle before he was faced with the preexisting crowd. He maneuvered his arm between people in order to hold onto one of the metal poles in the train, soon the doors closed and he was crushed in between dozens of people. The train jerked forward and made its way further away from the station.

He stood there uncomfortable, someone was breathing on his neck while a person sitting near him began coughing uncontrollably. The train took an abrupt stop in the tunnel underneath the East River. There were no announcements and the train sat in the same position for ten minutes. The conductor was suddenly begun arguing with the motorman over the radio. He stopped his iPod to hear what they were saying. He only understood that they didn’t want to go into the city.

Minutes later the train began to pull forward they slid into Lexington Ave. He was able to relax as more people began to get off the train the further they went into the city, he had noticed that the train was beginning to go faster and more people began crowding onto the train, unusual for a morning rush hour. Soon the train came to a stop at his station, he stepped off the train. The doors shut behind him; only four other people from the entire train had disembarked. The area around him was odd 23rd street was never empty like it was now. There were no people in the station and he began to walk to the one exit in the middle of the platform. Pushing his way through the gates he began to walk up the stairs the other three people had gone to the other side.

He began to cough as he had reached the street level; the air had become a thick unbearable smoke. He covered his mouth and ran the two blocks to his office building. There were people lying on the floor, he didn’t know if they were dead or not but he did hear people coughing as he ran. He made it to his building and panicked as he tried to wave his id over the lock on the door. He was running out of air and he didn’t want to breathe anymore of whatever he was in.

Soon the keypad turned green and he made his way into the building, he ran up the stairs breathing the air in. It was no longer smoke so he felt safe breathing it in. He swung the doors from the stairs to his floor to see three people in the office. They were sitting on the floor staring at the window. He ran over to them to see if they knew anything, they had been sitting on the floor since the smoke began to pour in.

He walked to one of the computers and looked for any news. He couldn’t find any updates because no news source had updated their information since hours earlier. He soon made his way to the BBC website where he saw the first headline. “New York Being Devastated by Massive Sulfur Storage Fire” he continued to read the news about how the city was being choked of air and thousands were already pronounced dead by being burned from sulfuric acid that they had breathed in.

He turned around to see that the three people had left; they were going to run back to the subway and catch a train home. He considered doing the same but knew that the smoke was getting worse and knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle any more because he was allergic to sulfur. Soon there was another explosion far away. The lights shut off this time and he sat on the floor and looked out of the window.

Every once in a while he would hear people outside screaming for air, he couldn’t see the street anymore because the smoke had grown so thick. Hours had passed and his cell phone began to ring, he had forgotten that he had it. He looked at it and saw that it was his sister from London calling. He answered and assured her that he was okay.

Tears began to roll down his face when he rested the phone onto the floor. He sat in silence as the sun began to take away its light. He looked out in the direction of the fire and saw an amazing glow of colors. The city had become horribly silent, he felt alone as he drifted off to sleep. A while later he was awoken by the sound of large jets flying above him. He then heard a loud scream from them there was another explosion as one of the planes accidentally crashed into the growing fire.

Days had passed and he was still trapped in his office, he began to lose his grasp on reality. The smoke had not let up his cell phone battery died three days ago and so contact with his sister had been aborted. He began to imagine that there were people in the office; he believed that they were taunting him. He hadn’t eaten in a week since the last bits of food in the office refrigerator had been eaten.

He slowly walked to the hallway window and opened it; he couldn’t see the street below but he knew that he was seven stories above. There was a rumbling sound coming from his left, it continued to develop in his brain. He believed he was going insane, there was nothing left to do and so he stood onto the ledge. There was no time to have second thoughts because he began to choke and stumbled out of the window slamming into the ground below.

There were screams from dozens of people who had just seen the man jump. A little child was waving goodbye to his mother before her train was pulling in to take her to work. He screamed as the man jump onto the tracks. The train pulled in and ran over the man as it slammed on the brakes. The scream of the metal wheels rubbing against the tracks pierced the station and everyone turned and saw what had just happened.

The man’s head rolled onto the other tracks and his body began to burn as his bloody neck slammed onto the electrified third rail. The man’s eyes were still open and when his head settled he was staring directly at the boy on the other platform.
The puddle of blood began to collect under the train.

matter in the streets

Fallout thinker
Originally uploaded by Bulsti

The screams woke him from his sleep. Keeping his eyes closed his mind registered where he was and the environment around him. The ground shook again, as it had been for the past few days and a glass from the kitchen had fallen and shattered. He opened his eyes to see the orange glow from the window. The fires were still going on yet the police sirens that where here yesterday had gone silent.

He turned the television on to see if anything was showing up. There was still the snow screen and the deafening sound. He turned it off and walked to the window, thirty floors above the city he looked down to see the sun rising above the smog from the fires. The riots were still raging on; once the computers crashed the city went right along with them. Maybe it was the world he couldn’t tell.

He walked to the kitchen to clean up the mess; all of the explosions were knocking down his dishes. The coup began three weeks earlier and had escalated into a national movement that bordered on civil war. The fighting slowly made its way across the nation and within days of starting in Washington, DC fighting began in New York. That’s all he knew, the internet had been shut down nationwide after a massive computer attack destroyed all military computers at the Pentagon.

There had been transmissions over the radio, but they were just random numbers that he didn’t understand. He walked past the table in the hallway that was days old, the headline reading “Fighting Ravages City, Evacuations Halted.” He turned the kitchen light switch on to see that a glass had fallen from the counter. He began to clean it up after he slid a pair of blue slippers on. Another explosion went off in the distance as he bent down to sweep the glass into the dustpan, a tear slammed to the ground as the silence resumed.

He walked back to his room to gather some clothes; he was going to take a shower and soon would be leaving his home for the first time in a week to look for his ex wife and their son. He hadn’t heard from either one since the cell phone signals were shut off three days prior. He walked to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror; he’d never been paler and realized it was the fear running through his blood. Sighing he stepped into the shower and turned the water on and let the steaming water fall over his face. Minutes later while he was finishing his was and violently scrubbing shampoo through his thick black hair the lights flickered for nearly thirty seconds. The water soon turned cold and suddenly shut off.

Walking out of the shower and grabbing a towel, he turned to the bathroom sink and turned on the faucet which also turned out to be empty, he then walked quickly back to the kitchen and the sink their also failed. He dried his hair and walked back to his bedroom, he stared at the red walls as he prepared his departure. Grabbing his bag he placed a day’s worth of food, a flashlight, his camera, a cell phone, clothes, and a knife.

He grabbed the keys to the apartment and looked out the window one last time in order to get a general idea of the outside world. There were dozens of fires coming from downtown Manhattan, luckily he was going uptown. He had overheard his neighbors saying that it was safer above midtown that was where the military was.
He turned around and faced the door, minutes later he walked out of the entrance of his building. The streets were filled with a light coating of smoke from the fires and a distinct smell from the teargas. Garbage was strewn about on both sides and almost every store was broken into, the Dunkin Donuts next to the building was on fire because the stove had been smashed.

He stood in the middle of the once popular street, now it lay lifeless and trashed with cars seemingly thrown about. No one was around yet there was yelling and shooting off in the distance, this grabbed his attention and he began to walk towards his ex-wife’s home twenty blocks north and on the other side of town. He began to walk and placed his camera around his neck; being a photojournalist he knew people were going to want to see the destruction of this vast metropolis. Snapping pictures he soon noticed two men staring at him with guns drawn.

He jumped and fell back over a garbage can that had been thrown in the street. The surrounded him and began asking questions. He soon realized they were the government and not the militia, he swiped his federal id and press badge over the portable scanner, the screen on it lit green and they let him go telling him to go north to Madison Square Garden where evacuees were being gathered and put on trains to leave the city. They warned him that the violence had increased and the militia was beginning to take hostages.

He walked away wondering how the conflict would end, he remembered a few years before when he was sent to photograph a terrorist attack on the Long Island Railroad where there were four suicide bombers in Jamaica, Queens and others throughout the city. Recalling that soon after the movement gained much popularity when the draft was called back into effect. He was one of the photographers during an interview with the leaders before the Declaration of War was set upon the federal government.

He could never imagine that it would become so violent and dangerous. Just then a jet flew over the island and dropped bombs alongside the FDR Drive. Gunshots rang out and soon men came running into the streets with large guns, he ran into a looted Duane Reade to hide and take pictures. Looking at the street sign reading 19th St. He heard cheering and shooting immediately before a loud screeching sound then a large explosion; the plane that had just flew over him was now in flames over across the river in Queens.

He decided to jump up and run for the next block over, they didn’t see him. Soon his run slowed back to a walk, it felt more like a hike. He no longer recognized the places he had grown up around, the smog was beginning to burn his eyes and the layer of ash flew in the air with every step. There were large fires in the small tenement buildings he loved so much, people were screaming from tall towers because they were trapped. Others lay dead on the floor from jumping out of the buildings or being shot to death.

He soon approached the Evacuation Center, knowing he still had to make his way north to look for his family. There were barbed wired gates and many people were sitting outside on the floor. It didn’t look welcoming and in fact it was reminiscent of third world prisons. He ran back before any guard could notice him and he continued his trek uptown.
There were more fires north of the city, and it seemed as if the government jets were doing more of the bombings than anyone else. He walked through Times Square to see that many of the buildings had been leveled. The New Years Ball lay on the street in millions of pieces and rats were running through the street in every direction. The Ferris wheel in the Toys R’ Us had fallen into the sidewalk, dozens of people crushed and killed underneath it.

Fliers were blown into the air when another jet flew over; he grabbed one and read it. It was an invitation to the first protest of the government. This occurred days before the fighting commenced and gained national attention because of the accusations of police brutality. He folded the paper and placed it in his back pocket and began to snap pictures of Times Square, which was now in ruins. As he began to leave there was a large explosion behind him blacks south. He couldn’t see but he thought it was Madison Square Garden because of the screams from so many people.
Flinching he continued to walk north along Broadway. Soon he made his way to the area where his son lived. He began to scream out his son’s name as a plane flew in from the distance. Minutes later he heard someone screaming as a door flew open. It was his son; they had gone to a neighbor’s home a block south. He turned around to see his son and ex wife standing in the middle of the street.

He started to run to his son and the boy screamed out because his mother wouldn’t let him run in all of the rubble. He tripped of a fallen street light and cut his hand; he gained his composure and looked up. He put his hands on the ground in order to push himself back up when there was the familiar whistling sound. He screamed as the metal object flew from the sky and pierced the New York City Street.

The explosion was greater than he could imagine, the street exploded from beneath them. He was flown from the ground further back and his child’s screams were cut short by the massive sound. He hit his head on the street and was knocked unconscious. The street now wore a massive hole and pipes bled water and sewage to fill it. He was awoken by the sound of someone screaming, looking up he realized it was his ex-wife.

He ran on the side of the street to get to her side, he stopped in his tracks when he saw her. She lay on the ground without any legs. He immediately looked for his son as she screamed out for him to help her. Ignoring her he saw his son in the corner of his eye, the little boy’s lifeless body was crushed underneath a car that had been thrown in the air during the explosion.

Horror and blood ran to his face, another plane flew overhead, his ex-wife screamed helplessly in the street and blood from his son’s head drained onto the street.

He stood there.

postponement

ohh personal literature how i miss you so.
i've gotten plenty of work, all for a better future i suppose.
i should have my next story up sometime in late january.
happy new years.

cival war

The train station was unusually crowded, every time she rode the train into Colombo with her father she didn’t remember it being this crowded. But today wasn’t usual day, she was with her mother and they were on their way to Colombo’s airport. The only way they could afford to get out of the war torn country and into Germany was to catch the train to Colombo and then take a flight to Berlin where her father already was working and received legal resident status.

She looked around the train station to see that many were doing the same, the civil war between the Sri Lankan government and the LTTE had only grown more violent in the past year. The previous night militants began to storm the city and there were rumors that the members of the LTTE were in the town of Medagama a few kilometers from her home in Kandy in central Sri Lanka. The news reporters had predicted a showdown between the two groups in the next few weeks. As a result many were evacuating central Sri Lanka.

The train began to pull in from the distance yet everyone heard it three minutes prior. The screeching sounds of metal covered everyone as the station became silent. Soon the brakes forced the trains pause. People began to push on to the train that was once empty, she and her mother luckily were the few people to claim ownership to a seat on the humid, now crowded train. They sat there and she stared out the window looking at the people climb to the roof, people waiting for other train arrivals, people sadly separating. She missed being a child, back when she played with all of her friends’ everyday on the road after school. She missed being yelled at for not completing her chores before she left for class. She missed her brother who joined the LTTE militia a few years ago. She turned to look at her mother’s face, took hold of her hand and whispered “we’ll be safe soon”.

Soon after the bells began to ring and an announcement was made over the intercom but she couldn’t hear. The train jerked forward and slowly made its way out of Kandy Rail Station. She looked at the platform to people waving goodbye with tears in their eyes and to late passengers running to grab a niche in the train’s exterior so they could hold on. Seconds later the train was entirely outside and making it’s way toward the nation’s biggest city. Cutting through people’s backyards and piercing through lush green forests she felt like she was finally free from danger. Amazed at how smoothly the train was moving she forgot about the oppressive heat that consumed the train, she ignored the traffic jam on the two lane highway that partnered with the rail every now and again.

The rain began to fall onto the train and she kept her window open letting the water fall onto her face, anything was better than sitting in a hot train with the windows closed. She jumped when another train in the opposite direction swiftly passed her window, she laughed with her mom at how scared she got. She was happy to see her mom smiling, ever since her father left for Europe her mother was in a state of depression working on the fields all day and coming home barely speaking. She spent her past 17th birthday working for her mom because she was sick and needed the rest, but they needed the money since her father still wasn’t working, although today things were looking up.

She was amazed by how beautiful nature was. Staring in awe as the train crossed one of the many rivers on its trek to Colombo. Birds flew beside her when they went through clearings; kids were playing rugby when they passed open fields, huge flowers and trees littered the floor every time they would pull out of another city or town. She’d never seen so many colors in just a few hours. She was amazed at how easy the fare dodgers made riding on the side of the train look and cringing every time she saw someone walking on the other track worried that a train might hit them.

Eventually she fell asleep, dreaming of what she left behind. She woke up sweating and in a state of depression. Her mother asked her why she looked sad and she began to cry. She’d never see the small home she’d spent her entire life in. She was leaving her home city that once seemed huge to her; it was now a fraction of the size of where she was moving to. She was leaving all of her friends and moving to a new country with a different language. Her mother gave her a hug and assured her that everything was going to be alright.

Just as she shifted back into her seat the trees and all of its nature disappeared. Shacks and houses began to fill the windows off in the distance the distinct Colombo skyline could be seen hovering above the thousands of homes. She was shocked at how tall the World Trade Center was, she’d never seen structures above seven stories, so seeing two 40 floor towers from the distance was amazing. She looked at the ground to see how busy everything was, every road was full of cars and people were everywhere. The sun reflected off of the ocean that from far away seemed as if it rose above the city.

She turned to ask her mom if they had time to go to the beach before their flight, when there was a large noise. One second later the train that was moving at 100 kilometers per hour (55mph) was lifted off of the tracks. All twelve cars were slammed onto the side and pushed across the other two tracks coming to a stop in the embankment beside the tracks. The entire train snapped into pieces and some of its cars were lying on top of crushed houses.

There was a moment of silence, the only sound that could be heard were flames off in the distance. The odd silence was soon broken by a baby’s scream. Sirens could be heard off in the distance first there were emergency vehicle sirens from across the city moments later the civil defense siren went off. She opened her eyes when another sound of an explosion far off shook her. Other people began to regain consciousness and started to realize what happened. Another train that sounded like it was above them slammed on its brakes. She held her ears because of the high pitched screech. Looking down she realized that her hands were bloody. She began to look for her mom; the train was upside down so she stood up on the roof with about a dozen other people.

She looked at all of the bodies and began to scream for her mom. She turned some people over in hopes that she was trapped under some people. She soon saw a hand move outside of the train, running over she realized it was her mother. She covered her mouth with her bloody hand as she looked at her mom who was on the verge of death; half of her body was trapped under the train. She screamed in terror as her mom struggled, she ran over and shifted her body up so her mother was in her lap. Her mother slowly went in and out of consciousness but her last words were to tell her daughter to go to her father and get away. She wiped her mother’s forehead as she stood up and wept.

She slowly walked up the embankment to go back to the level where the rail tracks were. As soon as she reached the top of the hill she realized what happened. There were four gas storage tanks situated next to the tracks and three of them were aflame. She fell to her knees and cried uncontrollably firefighters ran past her as drool ran down her face when she looked up into the sky that was no longer blue but filled with smoke. She looked around at the rest of the city and there were four other places where noxious fumes were billowing from the ground. She heard military jets and helicopters pass above her.

Following her mother’s orders she lifted herself from the ground and began to walk, she went back into the train to retrieve her plane tickets and her one bag of luggage. Then she began to walk alongside the tracks to the city’s main station. Emergency workers began lining bodies on the side of the tracks; she walked past hundreds of corpses and their weeping survivors. Children, Mothers, Fathers, Spouses, anyone you could think of she saw. The afternoon light began to make way for the sunset’s glow as she got to the main station. There was a large crowd of confused people demanding to know where the trains were. One man grabbed her as she made her way out of the stations and onto the bus that was labeled “Airport”, “What happened out there?!” He asked with fear on his face. “Everyone’s dead” she replied as the doors on the bus separated them. He stared at her and she glanced back as the bus pulled off.

She sat in silence as the blood on her hands dried, rocking back and forth as the bus made its way north of the city to the airport. The bus driver glanced back at her and yelled “all flights are canceled tonight” as he obviously saw the Condor Airlines tickets she clutched in her hands. She stared at the rear view mirror and nodded her head “I just need to get out”.

She stepped off the bus and looked at the airport terminal. There were large crowds as the flights had been canceled. She stood in line to check in, standing over an hour with mostly tourists she discovered that the LTTE had commenced an air raid on the city and bombed five locations in the city. with the death toll estimated at 4,000. She was shocked and didn’t realize that it was her turn in line until some American tapped her shoulder.

She walked up to the counter and the agent asked if she was checking it. She nodded her head as it was explained to her that no flights would be leaving until the next day. “You’ll be okay” the woman told her “what’s your name?”

She responded “Nilanee”