Perspectives

This was not your average day. Certainly the day started average for Clare Jakes; the regular morning ritual. Nothing could indicate how things would change for her over the course of her day.

Winds blew through the metropolitan canyons of steel and glass bringing with it the transient late-autumn morning chill. Clare drew her coat tight around her midsection to fend off the cold. Two years ago, she committed to walk to work, but on mornings like this she sometimes wanted to just give up on the whole idea. Her commute wasn't long; only four blocks south, and two more into the eastern sun. The sidewalks didn't usually have much foot traffic, and today was no exception.

With over four-hundred treks down this same path, everything around her was so familiar it didn't register anymore. The corner convenience store tended by Mr. Nissar went unnoticed; just another grey wall in the periphery. The abandoned phone booth, home to scraps of paper and debris, but no phone; just an obstacle to avoid. Dear old Charlene out walking her tiny dogs only got a passing smile. Clare focused on her journey, and everything else was the visual equivalent of background noise.

As Clare approached her eastern route, Lincoln Ave., she noticed barricades blocking the footpath. Drawing closer, she could read a sign indicating the sidewalk was closed. She would have to take the other side of the street. Clare couldn't remember the last time she was on this side. It certainly wasn't at this time of the morning.

This new, yet familiar path brought an awareness to Clare of her environment. The sun warmed her face while the wind brought waves of cold air, providing a singular feeling on the skin. The glass windows sparkled, casting brilliant beams of light down to the street below.

Passing the old church on this side of the street brought a rapture of wonderment. The steep spires grasped for the clouds above. Overwhelmed by the immensity of the facade, Clare took in the small details in the plaster work, and the stained glass windows.

As Clare drew near the end of the block, she could see her office building up ahead. The fourteen-story building stood like a black monolith amidst smaller brick structures. From this angle, the sheer glass wall was more impressive than when she walked up the other side of the street.

Clare tried to spot her office on the fifth floor. Looking out the window offers a pleasant view of the distant waterway, with brown and yellow leaves framing the dark rushing water. From Clare's present perspective, the window only offered a reflection of the clouds, with a glint from the morning sun.

It could have been the fact that Clare never looked upon this building from this angle before, so she didn't notice that something was different. One floor above her office, a brilliant blue light pulsated behind the dark glass. Suddenly, the window pane shot out in thousands of sharp pieces, raining down on the street below. A deep rumble shook through her bones like a roaring thunder. Clare fell to her knees, stunned. Burnt bits of paper tumbled through the air like an apocalyptic ticker tape parade.

Clare looked up to where the window once was; she blinked in astonishment. Standing in the hole was a figure of a man crowned with lightning. Blue bolts like electricity orbited his head. From this distance, Clare couldn't make out any other distinguishing features. Curious, she got to her feet and sprinted towards the crowds exiting the buildings ahead.

Dozens of people gathered on the street below, looking up in bewilderment at the man in the window. Clare halted just as she came close. The mysterious man just stood there in the gaping hole. The zapping sound of electricity popped in Clare's ears; her mouth fell wide open as she gazed upon the face.

There was no face to be seen, only blue strings of light twisting about each other like a disheveled ball of electric yarn. But Clare could feel his eyes looking down at her. The feeling pierced her chest, and a feeling of terror overcame her. Like a young gazelle, Clare turn and ran as fast as she could.

Her legs pumped up and down, faster than she's ever done before. She kicked off her shoes in an effort to gain even more speed. A burning fear swept up her spine and into her neck. She didn't dare look back. Cries of panic and pain pulled at her from the crowd she left behind. Clare knew an unimagined horror filled the streets.

She ran, and ran.