In the blink of an eye, three days had passed.
The three-story North Street Hotel was very quiet.
Those old men who didn't want to become trialists or work had moved out early. They scoffed at the end-of-the-world and alien demon theories, unwilling to pay them any mind.
They had completely forgotten who was guarding their children's rooms with rolling pins, kitchen knives, and mop handles.
In their world, everything appeared unchanged. The sun rose as usual, and their unruly kids would sleep for ten plus minutes to an hour at most every fifteen days.
The destruction of the neighbouring city felt like a distant past event that gradually faded out of their discussion after a few days.
The internet and reality seemed to be stirring up trouble unnecessarily.
"Our world is fracturing."
