It’s the morning light that awakes her. Bright yellow strays under the curtain, a warm touch that drift her consciouness to reality once again. To realize it’s late and the alarm clock malfunctioned. She gets up in a hurry, fumbling through sheets, already thinking about an excuse for being late on the job. It takes her a full minute to notice that there’s something wrong.
Silence. Not a sound from the street, no noise from the house. Just the distant hiss of the wind. She checks her cell phone only to find it dead like a stone. Power is down and her wristwatch looks dead too. Slowly, very slowly, she approach the windows and raise the curtain. For a moment sunlight block her vision, then she can look at the street, two stores down. No traffic. Just a car, an old tattered station wagon, lies in the middle of the near intersection like a discarded toy.
After a while she takes a step back from the window, scared but still in control. There could be an explanation for everything, she toughts, it’s just a blackout, maybe the phone got itself shortcircuited, that’s all. In a hurry she dress herself, then goes to the bathroom. The noise of the toilet flush is welcome, a sign of normality. But there is no water from the tap, just a few drops and a bunch of little noises. She bit her lower lip, keeping curses at bay. Seconds later she’s ready to go, stuffing the dead phone and keys in her purse.
Time to get some answers and face the thruth.