Pee Eye Bee

A Conversation At The End Of The World

It’s quiet atop the hill except for a wind rustling through autumn-painted trees. In the distance there are sounds, so many of them. Sirens, soaring above the rising swell of countless vehicle alarms and muffled announcements echoing urgently across the cityscape. Columns of smoke, more and more of them, spiral into the clear skies, black banners waving for attention. A lone skyscraper, pointing frantically at something unseen above, disintegrates with a confused groan, collapsing down into a silvery cloud that shoots high into the air, a towering ghost composed of sparkling glass dust and metal particulate.