Societal Problems

The news spread like a flame, every burst increasing in speed and force. It burned and scorched, leaving society tattered and weakened like the fine, fragile soot of a smoldering tree. Society was ablaze. Each pillar crumbling— smashing the ground and roaring like thunder. Above, the clouds covered the sun and the rows of cars below hummed with frustration.

I wanted to scream, yell, cry in exasperation. There was too much life, and too little time. All was drowned in the madness and confusion of the world around. On the side of buildings, hung large platinum TVs. It blared out against the tumult below.

“PM dead. Country in disarray. Immediate actions necessary.” Jets roared across the sky, thunderous echoes.

The universe fell silent. People paused, and stared. They glanced up from their phones and simply stared. The silence was deafening. It was as if the plane robbed each person of their voice and captivated them. Like an old photograph, time stopped and it felt as if there was a tangible, thick cloth covering the city. And thus, Death of a man deafened Man.

Walking to school, I followed the exact same path to school everyday. I traced and retraced, until every inch held a memory of my weight and the print of my shoes. My morning routine remained the same as always, simple and direct. There were no unnecessary movements, three thousand two hundred forty one right steps and one less left step. Exactness and precision was key to efficiency. Spending days calculating, planning my time for the next green light, next hour, next day, next week, next month, next year.

Upon reaching the gates, I saw a young boy standing to the right of the entrance. He held in his arms a dense stack of papers crammed together. Beneath him was a small tin, worn out by time and bruised by rust. Within its gaping hole, there was a pile of coins–each worthless, yet together a significant amount. The boy handed out the pamphlets to every interested passing student and demanded of them only a single token as payment.

Intrigued by seeing my fellow peers gazing amusedly at the sheets of paper, I, too, went and bought a copy. What was on the paper that captivated so many. I glanced down. Major Developments! New plan of action. I squinted at the small font below–Citizens from ages 17\-30 Report to City Center Plaza in 3 days at 7:30AM and then showed a map of the entire city. Indeed it was a strange request; was this a draft for war or a head count? I pondered, but soon forgot the matter entirely.

I awoke to the sound of my alarm, the city was bustled about and the trees aroused by the rough winds. Two days passed, and the third began. I got dressed, ate, and went outside. Just when I was about to turn the corner, I saw Shinjiro hurriedly rush in the opposite direction. I ignored him and continued down the road towards the school campus. However, along the way I saw more streams of people going in the same direction, and opposite of mine. They flowed like a stream on the streets, gushed at each intersection–being stopped by road light–and fed into an ever widening river, gaining in momentum. I became concerned and suddenly remembered the words on the pamphlet. The watch on my wrist read 7:18. I turned and ran.

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