It began in the
By noon, people were offering up their children, especially the unruly ones, for a place on the ferry. It felt like Saigon in '75. I know, I was there. In the sense that I saw The Deer Hunter a couple of times. A commodities trader was offering up his wife's virtue for a place on the boat for his Porsche Cayenne. In the distance, a pedigreed dog barked.
At 3:30 I heard the magic words. I was getting off this god forsaken, windswept rock. No more trying to get by on seared sea scallops and braised oxtail on a bed of pureed fingerling potatoes. No more scavenging for $5 ice cream cones. I was free.
When I got to Hyannis, I struggled to find fuel. It took me five minutes to find an open gas station. Could I make up those five minutes? Were they lost to me forever?
As I moved west, the scene of devastation intensified. In Medford, I saw a Whole Foods.
It was closed.
A shudder ran through me. I killed and ate the dog.
As I made my way through Connecticut, I noticed that some of the houses had no power. I took what was left of the dog and made clothes from her hide. She was a small dog, so I only made mittens.
When I got home, I was met with a chaos so profound, my mind swooned to grasp the enormity of it. There, on our back deck, were looters. They devoured the food my Most Wondrous Wife had prepared. Admittedly, she prepared it for them and invited them over and they were our friends and colleagues, but still.
Looters.
In the distance, you could hear a generator humming. I made a mental note to kill the owner and steal the generator should we lose power, which we hadn't.
I began to sink into an uneasy sleep.
What new horrors would the dawn bring?
And then I remembered and my blood ran cold.
No school tomorrow...
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