Unsent
There's a lull of silence after an earthquake, like the world is holding it's breath. But for what?
Things sound different after an earthquake. The world holds its collective breath, waiting.
Is that it? Is it over?
Car alarms make the silence louder.
Get out. The roof could fall in. Knowing my luck, there’ll be another quake the second I move.
My phone jangles from a buzz of messages.
Are you okay?
Did you feel that?
OMG! That was huge!
Not now. I’ll reply later.
The house creaks oddly, and I head to the door. Down the corridor, I grab my keys and a jacket. The house sways again, like a boat, rocking the way a house on land shouldn’t. I race to the bathroom door and brace.
The shaking stops.
Heartbeat. Thumping.
My phone buzzes.
Jane, get out of the house!
Yup. Doing that.
Outside, the sun’s shining. It’d seem normal except for neighbours dressed as zombies and witches gathering on the road. Oh, and the gaping crack splitting my driveway.
The woman next door hugs Princess Elsa and Spiderman, both kids clinging like they gained Peter Parker’s powers. I wave, but they don’t notice.
Another jolt, powerful and violent. The kids shriek. A tree shudders and topples on my house. Branches bounce and settle in the room where I’d been.
Huh. There’s a tree in my house.
Glad it's not me.
Others will need help. Over the road, a chimney has fallen, crushing the roof and collapsing the wall.
An old lady stands wailing nearby. “My cat, my cat! Please save my cat!” I can’t remember her name. Mrs… begins with M, I think.
I come over. “It’ll be all right.” She keeps crying about her cat.
The guy next door calls for help and tosses bricks aside. His name is Jim, or Jimmy, something like that. He’s half naked and covered in green body paint. I can’t decide if he’s the Hulk or Shrek. He tosses a brick over his shoulder and I jump clear before it hits me.
“Careful!”
Must be the Hulk.
The brick bounces across the grass towards Mrs M.. Jim’s mate in Superman spandex comes over to shift bricks.
I toss my jacket over the fence and join in. Others help too. Zombies, Loki, Darth Vader… superheroes and villains saving the day. No one asks how I’m coping with a tree in my house, but I’m okay with that. Still alive, that’s the main thing.
Then Jim stops. “Shit.”
He points at the rubble. There’s a navy-blue shoe and a phone. The screen is cracked, but still working, but that’s not where he’s pointing. There’s a leg.
I swallow hard.
Shit.
The old woman. She’s still wailing about her cat, but with a brick in her foot.
Not on. In her foot.
Wearing the same navy shoes as the half-buried leg.
“This your coat?” Jim points at my jacket on the fence.
I nod dumbly, but I’m staring at the cracked phone and the message on the screen.
Jane, get out of the house!
The message is unsent.