It’s an ordinary day, in an ordinary place, and you’re walking down an ordinary street on your way to do some ordinary things: buy some teabags, pick up shoes that have been re-heeled, post a letter, maybe stop for some coffee even though you know you might get cake too and shouldn’t have cake but almost certainly will.
The weather is the definition of nondescript: a flat, low grey sky, like a lid over the world. Fitful drizzle. A breeze that promises to turn into something stronger but then can’t be bothered.
All of which is why the last thing you are expecting is for the world to suddenly go dark, but as you pass a vape shop, and step over some dog shit, that’s exactly what it does.
At first there’s a cold wave of fear washes over you: I’ve lost my sight. Aneurysm, tumour, breakdown, incipient death. But after a moment or two, you realise you can still see, just. There’s enough light to make out the street around you, although you can’t tell where it is coming from. It’s like the last moments of dusk have fallen, just before it turns into night.
Then it’s light again, the street and the drizzle and the sullen traffic, just as it was before. You stand and look around you, confused, scared. The door of the vape shop opens and a short, balding man comes out. He looks intently at you and says, “Did you see that?”
You feel a huge sense of relief. It’s not you. What the hell did just happen? But most importantly, it wasn’t you. Meteorological event, eclipse, sunspots, ozone layer who knows. It wasn’t you. “Yes,” you say, struggling to get anything else out. “Yes.” You wait for him to share his fears, his concerns, to feel that solidarity of human beings both dealing with something.
But instead, he winces. “Most people won’t have. Sorry. Got something a little wrong. Really sorry. Don’t let it bother you.” Then he scuttles back into the shop.
The wind makes an effort, shrugs and gives up. The drizzle starts, and stops, and starts. The cars go by. You walk on, and try and not think about what just happened because it makes you feel like you don’t know the world.
And you don’t.
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