15 April 2012
Rain. Mercilessly pounding the back of his neck, soaking him. It was cold. Only a few minutes ago it had been a normal, clear day in London, then suddenly out of nowhere the heavens seemed to open. He swore. The single, four letter word sprang from his mouth, quickly drowned out by the symphony of rain drops. He even picked the umbrella up before he left for work, but left it thanks to the promises of sun from the radio presenter. But there was no time to think of what could have been. He ran, the bottom of his jacket flailing behind him as he darted along. He threw the paper mâché mess of a newspaper he was holding into the bin. Someone shouted, but he could see no heckler. The streets were naked. Even in the rain people still rush about from place to place, but everything was eerily quiet today. Almost home. He turned left onto his road and noticed a van speeding towards him. He could hardly see it thanks to the dense rain, but for a brief second his and the drivers eyes met. He felt strange, as if the driver somehow knew him and had been anticipating his arrival. The van disappeared into the rain, and he was home. He walked to his front door, but something felt wrong. Then he noticed it....
Part 1 • Opuss № I