That Wednesday started like any other. Cars rolled past the house, dogs barked in the distance, and someone’s radio played faint music from an open window. I made coffee, scrolled through my phone, and glanced out at the same street I’d seen every day for years. Nothing looked different, but something felt off, like the air was holding its breath. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, just a strange quiet settling underneath all the usual sounds, as if the day was waiting for something to happen. By mid-morning, the change was impossible to ignore. The traffic slowed, then stopped completely. Neighbors
Pages: 1 2