All the Pretty People and a Fussy Little Sick
The skyscraper is made of glass and has no floors save the ground floor. The glass walls rise up as if to the bruise coloured sky that rumbles loud and deep. The clouds are big and fat and shift. I am standing inside the glass skyscraper. The glass skyscraper is on the beach. I am the only one there. Everyone else must have got away long ago. They ran quickly and swiftly to higher ground. I seem unable to move from the beach. The ocean is angry and I watch it as it grows in rage. The waves crash and get bigger with every try. One wave gathers size in slow motion it gets higher and high and I have to hurt my neck in order to look up that high. I am going to drown. This wave is going to crash on top of this glass skyscraper that I am inside. The water will smash the glass and I will be at the mercy of a deluge of angry water and broken glass. Yet, I still do not get away or try to run. How did I even get inside this glass skyscraper? There is no door. I can hear the roar of the wave as it towers over me.