The Grey City

I woke up to my alarm as usual. The sky outside the window was overcast, gray clouds stretching from horizon to horizon like an endless ceiling. I rubbed sleep from my eyes and sighed. Another day of work, or as I told everyone else at the office, another day in paradise.

My morning routine played out in familiar motions: shower, shave, coffee brewed while I dressed. I glanced at the clock, 7:15 sharp. The bus would be waiting.

Outside, a cool wind cut through my coat as I walked to the stop. The clouds hung low overhead, their edges blurred into each other like paint smudged on canvas. A bird flew by and vanished into the haze above.

The bus arrived with its usual rumble. I climbed aboard and found my seat near the window. As we pulled away from the curb, I looked up at the sky through the grimy glass; still gray, of course. Always gray these days, gray for as long as I could remember, sometimes dark, sometimes almost white.

I shook the last remnants of grogginess away and turned to watch the city roll by outside with buildings rising into the mist and people hurrying with heads bowed against an invisible rain. The sky seemed to press down harder than usual today, the clouds descending like a hydraulic press.

At work, I settled in at my desk and booted up the computer. My male colleague walked past carrying a stack of files. “Morning,” he said without looking up.

“Hey.” I nodded back automatically, but something else caught my eye: sunlight glinting off his glasses as he passed by the windows. Sunlight? I blinked and looked again. No, just a reflection from inside the office. The sky outside remained stubbornly gray through the window behind me.

The day wore on in its usual rhythm of meetings and emails. I caught myself staring out at the clouds more often than usual though, watching them drift slowly across the glass like ghosts floating beyond a prison cell.

By lunchtime, my neck was stiff from hunching over the keyboard all morning. I stood up to stretch, glancing again at that unchanging sky above our building’s roof access stairs.

Something nagged at me, something about how long it had been since… since what? I shook my head and descended back into the fluorescent hum of cubicles, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was different. Something fundamental had shifted without anyone noticing except me.

After work, I went to the gym; the bus parked in the lot beneath a row of dead trees, just in case passengers needed some shade. On the treadmill, my gaze drifted up through the plate glass windows. The sky seemed even darker somehow, closing against each side of the building like a noose pulled tight.

I increased my speed and focused on breathing steadily while watching the clouds drift by outside, trying to find some sense of relaxation in it; slow-moving ships lost at sea with no sun to guide them home.

Sweat trickled down my temples as I pushed harder, trying to outrun whatever unsettling thought kept circling back around in my brain. The gym’s music thrummed through the floor beneath me while people grunted and machine weights clanked against each other all around, but none of it could drown out that persistent voice in my mind whispering of danger.

I slowed down finally, panting heavily as I wiped my forehead with a towel. That’s when I saw it again, the tiniest patch of blue peeking through the clouds above. My heart leapt into my throat and for one glorious second everything felt right, but it was just colors from a television reflecting off a shiny edge of the windowpane, nothing more than an optical illusion playing tricks on me.

The clouds above were moving differently now too, not drifting lazily like they had all day, but churning and swirling as if stirred by some unseen hand reaching down from beyond our sight or understanding to rearrange everything we thought we knew.

I finally stumbled off the treadmill, heart still thumping adamantly from the workout. The gym spun around me briefly before settling back into focus: people still grunting and machines still whirring like nothing had changed at all except for that one tiny blue patch lingering stubbornly on the windowpane above…

“It had to be sunlight,” I thought suddenly. Why else would I have noticed it twice? That had to be real light coming through the clouds. Everyone had simply grown so accustomed to living under these eternal gray skies that one moment’s glimpse of blue above may have not even registered.

But for me? For me it felt like waking up from a dream I hadn’t realized I’d been having since… since when exactly? I couldn’t remember. But everyone else was blissfully oblivious to what was happening right overhead.

The clouds swirled faster now, their edges fraying apart like cotton candy dissolving in saliva, revealing glimpses of blue sky beneath that pushed my heart harder than a workout could ever hope to do. It wasn’t just one patch anymore either; there were dozens more appearing every second as if the heavens themselves had finally tired of the endless gray masquerade and decided it was time for everyone to see things clearly again.

I stumbled back against a weight machine, legs shaking beneath me while my eyes darted frantically between those tiny blue openings above, each one growing larger by the moment until suddenly, they all connected together into something truly breathtaking: an endless expanse of clear cerulean stretching from horizon to horizon like a vast ocean freed from its icy dam after centuries trapped below. I looked around at everyone sweating, straining, and not even acknowledging the miracle, and when I followed my finger back, pointing at the sky, there were the grey clouds, just as they always were. As far as the eye could see.

I woke up to the shrill ring of my alarm, blinking groggily at the grey ceiling above. I knew that the clouds outside my window looked exactly like they always did, thick and heavy with no hint of sun peeking through.

I turned on the radio while getting dressed, expecting the usual traffic reports and weather forecasts. Instead, a breathless voice burst through the speakers: “…unbelievable scenes overnight! After decades under continuous cloud cover, we’re seeing actual stars for the first time in living memory!”

My hands froze mid-tuck with my shirt half-buttoned. “…early reports suggest the phenomenon began around 3:45 AM and has been spreading rapidly since then. Witnesses describe a slow lifting of the clouds from east to west, revealing clear skies above.”

I rushed to the window, yanking back the curtains, and there it was… sunlight filtering through wisps of dissipating cloud, casting long shadows across the street below. A pale yellow glow that seemed almost too bright compared to what I had imagined.

I stared up at the sky like a man seeing God Himself descend from heaven. This couldn’t be real, could it? Had I imagined seeing the sky before or not? The radio continued its frenzied report, “…authorities are scrambling to assess what this means for our city’s infrastructure and power grid… early estimates suggest some sun-related complications, with most being minor in nature…”

I winced at that last bit. Of course there would be complications, people who’d never seen the sun before rushing to go out and bathe in it. But still… The clouds were clearing. I grabbed my jacket, ready to bolt out the door without thinking twice about work or anything else except getting outside before it disappeared again.

The streets were already packed with stunned faces craning necks skyward as if expecting the summons of judgment day itself to rain down upon us all. People pointed at birds flying overhead against the bright blue backdrop.

Then I remembered the people from yesterday, the ones standing outside the city limits staring in from the nothingness beyond our glass walls…

The radio crackled to life again, “…breaking news, we’re getting reports of contact! A delegation arrived early this morning claiming to be representatives from another major metropolitan area, saying their skies cleared two days ago and they’ve been searching for signs of other survivors ever since…”

I stood there stunned, one arm in my jacket sleeve. Another city? Was that what I saw the other evening? This was insane. I turned on my heel and started running downstairs, toward where I knew those figures had stood yesterday. What exactly could they see out there that we couldn’t before?

The radio continued babbling about official statements and emergency protocols while sirens wailed in the distance. But all I could focus on was reaching the barrier, getting a glimpse of whatever lay beyond our glass prison for myself.

I skidded to a halt at the city’s perimeter, panting heavily as I tried to process what my eyes were telling me. The sky above stretched out in endless blue expanse with only wispy cirrus clouds drifting lazily across its surface. No grey blanket anymore, just pure, unobstructed sunlight beating down on my upturned face.

I flinched away from the intensity, squinting hard to make out shapes in the distance where yesterday there’d been nothing but featureless brown wasteland as far as human eyes could see. Now I could actually see the mountains and dark splotches that might be trees, or maybe just holes or pits; I couldn’t really tell.

A voice behind me, gruff and raspy like someone who’d spent decades smoking unfiltered cigarettes spoke up, “Beautiful, ain’t it?” I whirled around to find an older man leaning against the barrier’s glass wall with arms crossed over a faded denim jacket. His face was mildly wrinkled and his eyes watery.

“Yeah,” I managed hoarsely, clearing my throat twice before continuing: “Never thought I’d live to see clouds part like that.”

He chuckled, “You ain’t the only one. Folks been waitin’ on Judgment Day since they was born, figured when it finally came we’d all just lay down an die proper-like instead of this…” He waved a hand at the sunlit landscape beyond our walls.

I nodded slowly, trying to wrap my head around what that meant. Was he saying we were supposed to be grateful or terrified? He seemed to read my mind, “Don’t you fret about it too much,” he said gruffly. “What’s comin’ is comin’, ain’t nothin’ you can do ‘cept live through what comes next.”

He turned back toward the city, watching as more stunned faces began trickling out from buildings, some shielding their eyes with hands while others just stood gaping like they’d never seen sky before.

I glanced at him sidelong, “You been outside long?”

“Long enough to know better than trust my own two eyes,” he replied cryptically. “Things ain’t always what they seem, son.” With that, the old man ambled off down the street, leaving me alone to enjoy the glorious day.

I was happy to just stand there watching the sky change colors, feeling like I’d been given a glimpse into some secret world that had always existed right above my head without me ever knowing. Eventually, the sun began to touch the horizon in slow motion, painting everything around me with brilliant orange and pink hues.

By then, most of the crowd had wandered back inside; too much direct sunlight was making people dizzy or sick if they stayed out too long. I could understand why. My own skin felt raw and tender from just an hour or so of exposure. But still, part of me wanted to stay right there until the stars came out, see what they looked like after being hidden from me. Maybe find some pattern or meaning behind all this change happening.

I was walking back toward my building when I heard someone call my name from the crowd of sunwatchers. I turned around to see who it was and was greeted with my second welcome sight of the day.

There stood Phoebe, an old high school classmate, her dark hair flowing over pale cheeks flushed pink from too much sun today already. She looked like she’d stepped straight out of an old movie poster with those big grey eyes sparkling under the sunset filtering through gaps in clouds beyond.

“Oh, um, hey stranger,” I said when my voice finally worked again. She laughed, a real sound of joy coming from her lips. That laugh felt like a gasping breath after being underwater too long, something breaking open inside me I hadn’t realized had been closed off for ages.

“Can you believe this?” she asked. “I mean… did you ever think we’d actually see beyond the clouds?”

I nodded slowly, still trying to process how quickly everything had shifted without warning. One minute, grey ceiling above your head every day since birth; next minute, endless blue expanse stretching forever instead with sun beating down, hot enough that you could feel it through your jacket.

“Is this even real?” I finally managed, not sure if I was asking her or myself.

“I don’t know,” Phoebe admitted softly, “But it feels real.” She reached out tentatively like she wanted to touch me, but stopped short, her hand hovering inches away from my arm before pulling back, like she was uncertain if she even meant to do it.

Something about the holiday environment was affecting everyone in the street, since I was reasonably certain she never would have done such a thing. I closed the gap myself, my fingers finding hers and lacing them together easily, as though we’d done it a thousand times already.

“Come with me,” I said quietly. “Let’s see what everyone else is up to.” I wasn’t sure where I found the confidence, but I was definitely enjoying this version of myself.

She followed without hesitation, trusting me implicitly even though she probably had no reason to. I led Phoebe through the winding streets, past groups of people still marveling at the sunset like children. Some were sitting on curbs, eyes squinted against the brightness; others stood in clusters talking with animated enthusiasm while gesturing up toward clouds drifting lazily overhead.

“Look,” I said, pointing to a young couple embracing under a withered oak tree, its branches doing little to hide them. “They’re kissing like it’s the first time.”

Phoebe smiled at that image before glancing sidelong: “You think this is what people meant when they were talking about ‘the end’ yesterday? Just… everything being different all at once?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted honestly as we continued walking side-by-side through streets now starting to fill with even more people venturing out from buildings. Some wore makeshift hats fashioned from whatever fabric was handy or old t-shirts wrapped around their heads like bandanas; creative if not somewhat crude attempts at protection against the sun’s intensity.

We turned a corner into the town square, which was its usual grey self just yesterday morning. Now it was transformed: tables set up with food and drinks, strings of colorful lights strung between trees casting a festive glow across the gathered crowd, who would no doubt want to keep the party going after dark. People were starting to dance, enjoying the last vestiges of natural light bleeding through the glass. Music played from speakers someone had brought out; something old but familiar enough to do the job.

“Oh wow,” Phoebe breathed beside me, eyes wide at the scene unfolding ahead; so many people laughing together under the vibrant sky instead of hunched shoulders in grey hallways or tense silence during lunchtime meals where people seemed too sluggish to socialize. “This is amazing.”

I nodded agreement even as a small part of my brain whispered caution; maybe this was too much, too fast after never having been touched by heaven; maybe we should be pacing ourselves instead of all at once.

But I pushed that thought aside, determined not to ruin the moment with pessimism, especially since Phoebe seemed so genuinely thrilled by it all. Her face glowed in a way I’d never seen before as she watched couples spin each other around on a makeshift dance floor and kids running wild between pillars playing tag while parents looked on smiling.

A tall man with salt-and-pepper hair approached us carrying two glasses filled with something fizzy and white. He thrust one into my hand without preamble, “Drink up, friend! This calls for celebration!” His voice boomed above the music as if challenging anyone present to disagree. “First real sunlight in forever, can you believe it?”

I accepted the glass warily. It smelled alcoholic, which wasn’t really my thing, and alcohol was also quite expensive. Where had it even come from? Phoebe took hers eagerly though, already sipping before I could warn her, and immediately coughed violently, sending liquid spraying everywhere, including the front of her white blouse. “Oh God,” she gasped between hacking fits, her eyes watering profusely. “What is this stuff?”

The man laughed heartily at her reaction, “That’s moonshine there, my own special recipe; it’s mixed with soda! Stronger than anything you guys are used to I bet!” I sniffed deeply and recoiled from the acrid scent. It smelled like gasoline mixed with something sweet gone bad. No wonder Phoebe had nearly choked on first sip; this wasn’t meant for delicate palates accustomed to weak tea and watery juice.

“Thanks,” I said diplomatically, holding my glass at arm’s length while trying not to offend him after being so generous. “I think maybe we should ease into it though, it’s been a long time since anyone here drank anything stronger than coffee.”

He gave a good-natured shrug, “Suit yourself! But you’re missing out on history happening right above your head!” He gestured expansively toward the sky where clouds continued drifting lazily as if watching our revelry below.

“Never thought I’d live to see a day like this,” he mused, taking a long swig from his own glass before wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Dad always said it would happen though, told me stories about blue skies and stars you could touch just by reaching up when I was little boy. Didn’t believe him then, but looks like maybe he knew something after all.”

I glanced at Phoebe, who seemed to be recovering from the initial shock of the moonshine’s potency. Her cheeks seemed to redden more deeply with alcohol being added to what I could only guess was sunburn. “Want me to get you some water?” I asked quietly as the man wandered off in search of other victims for his homemade brew.

She shook her head firmly, “No way! If this is what freedom tastes like, then bring it on!” She raised her glass defiantly before taking a more measured sip. She coughed again, but it was under her control this time. “Besides,” she continued when able to speak, “We don’t really know how long this will last. May as well embrace the chaos while we can.”

I chuckled at that, “Fair point.” Then added mischievously, “Just don’t complain later if you throw up on your shoes; unless you want to hear me say I told you so.”

She stuck her tongue out playfully before taking another tentative sip. I followed suit more cautiously, letting the liquid sit on my tongue first so I could acclimate gradually instead of assaulting my senses all at once like poor Phoebe had experienced.

The flavor wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but only a masochist would call it good. There was a sharp bite initially, then something sweetish underneath if you let it linger long enough before swallowing. After swallowing, a warmth began spreading slowly outward through my veins just like the sunlight on my skin.

The music grew louder as more people joined in the dancing; children shrieked with delight, running between parents’ legs who spun them around or lifted them high overhead before setting them back down onto pavement. Laughter rang out unchecked – pure joy without restraint.

Phoebe tugged at my sleeve, “Come on, let’s join them!” She pulled me toward the center where bodies moved in loose syncopation to the rhythm pulsing through the air; I resisted initially, but soon gave in as her infectious energy took hold. My feet lifted off the ground involuntarily while my arms flailed about, trying not to smack anyone else doing the same thing.

We spun each other around until short of breath. My head swam dizzily from exertion mixed with alcohol coursing through my bloodstream. The sun was beginning to disappear beneath the horizon, casting long, spindly shadows across the square. But there was no room for melancholy here, only celebration.

Phoebe collapsed against me, laughing uncontrollably, “I can’t feel my legs!” she gasped between guffaws. “Did you put something in my drink?”

“Yeah, crystal meth,” I joked back, supporting her weight easily despite my own unsteadiness. The ground seemed to tilt slightly beneath our feet as if balancing on a skateboard.

We staggered off the dance floor together arm-in-arm like drunkards crashing a wedding; people smiled indulgently watching us stumble past. A few called out encouragement: “You got it!” or “Get outta here, love birds!”

At the edge of the square, I spotted a bench insufficiently shaded by that same dead oak tree where the couple had been kissing earlier, now empty except for an abandoned paper cup lying on the ground beside it. “Let me sit down,” Phoebe panted, sinking onto hard wood with a grateful groan. She patted the space beside her in invitation: “Join me before you end up face-planting in the dirt.”

I settled down next to her carefully so as to not fulfill her prophecy; my head swam briefly, then cleared somewhat when I closed my eyes, focusing on deep breaths filling my lungs before slowly releasing them again through my nose. “Better?” she asked after a moment had passed. Her hand found mine resting between us, her warm touch centering me next to her.

“Much,” I admitted, squeezing her fingers lightly in appreciation. “This is nice though… just being together like we’re outside, I guess I wouldn’t mind if this was the new normal.”

She chuckled softly, “Not exactly ‘normal’ but I know what you mean.” Then she sobered slightly, “You think it’ll last? All this: the sun, the dancing, everyone getting along?”

I shrugged noncommittally, “Hard to say. Probably not forever… nothing ever is really.”

“True,” she sighed heavily before perking up again, “But maybe for today at least, we can pretend?” Her eyes sparkled mischievously as if daring me to disagree.

“Pretend what exactly?” I teased back, knowing full well where this was headed, but playing along anyway. The game felt too good not to engage fully.

“Pretend we’re just two idiots who met at a party and fell in love,” she said boldly, “and nothing else matters except being here right now together.”

My heart thudded loudly enough to drown out the distant music; I swallowed hard before responding, “‘Idiots’ might be accurate but ‘love’ seems like stretching it a bit, don’t you think?”

She punched my shoulder playfully, then leaned in close until her breath mingled with mine – strong and a bit sweetish from the drink, not the most pleasant thing I had ever sniffed, but I wanted desperately to kiss her. “We’re pretending, remember?” Phoebe whispered back with a sly grin before capturing my lips fully; no hesitation or uncertainty about it whatsoever, just pure intent behind every movement.

I kissed her back hungrily, hands roaming freely over curves that were hidden beneath her clothes just moments ago, which apparently she liked judging from the soft sounds escaping into my mouth. We finally broke apart, gasping for air.

“This can be real, you and me,” Phoebe said breathlessly.

My heart hammered wildly; I stared at her dumbfounded, unable to process what had just happened or how we’d gotten here so fast, but it felt good, if not a bit terrifying. “I…I don’t know,” I stammered lamely, “this is all happening really quickly, the sun, the dancing, you saying things like that…”

She laughed, “The sun? Really?” Then she sobered slightly, “I get it’s overwhelming, but think about it honestly. Do we have time to waste when clouds could come back tomorrow and take everything away again?”

Her point landed squarely; I winced at the thought of losing this moment, or her. “No,” I admitted quietly, “We don’t.”

“Then stop overthinking and just tell me what you feel,” Phoebe urged gently but firmly; nothing but my own hesitation holding us back now.

I took a deep breath then let it out slowly, “Scared mostly… but also like nothing’s ever been more right than this, even though I can’t explain why exactly. Maybe the sun just baked our brains.” I closed my eyes briefly, focusing inward past the alcohol and music and dizziness onto something more solid beneath it all. 

When I opened them again, Phoebe was watching me intently with a mix of hopefulness and apprehension on her face; my heart clenched at how vulnerable she looked after being so bold moments ago. “That’ll do for starters,” she said with a small smile.

“Ok well, I think I’m falling for you,” I said carefully, “Which sounds cliché but isn’t really, more like tumbling off a cliff without knowing where I’ll land except it’s ok because it’ll be somewhere with you, if that makes sense.”

She beamed, “Perfectly.” We kissed again, slowly this time, savoring every second before pulling apart reluctantly; the sun had finally disappeared, the sky now painted with pinpricks of small dots as far I could see out into the endless expanse of the universe. I felt like I was a part of it for the first time.

“Stay with me tonight?” Phoebe asked softly, “Not just here… come back home with me when everyone else leaves?”

My pulse quickened. “Yes.”

We walked hand-in-hand through streets quieted by evening’s arrival; a few stragglers lingered outside drink shops, but most had trickled away already. The air smelled of flowers and something else more primal beneath, desire still thrumming in my veins from earlier.

At her doorstep, Phoebe turned to face me, “You’re sure about this, right?” Her eyes searched mine earnestly; I knew she meant more than just physicality, though that was part of it too; commitment, vulnerability, trust, safety…

“Never been more sure of anything,” I said truthfully, then leaned in, capturing her lips again. She melted against me with a soft moan and everything else fell away, leaving only two hearts beating in time to their own rhythm, separate from the world’s.

Inside her apartment, the mood shifted subtly – urgency was still present, but it was tempered by a warm comfort now that we’d crossed the threshold into private space. Clothing shed slowly as kisses deepened, exploring every inch of revealed skin; I marveled at how perfectly she fit against me, like two pieces of a broken cup finally being restored.

Afterward, we laid there without saying anything for a long while. My heart still hammered as sweat finally cooled on my skin. Phoebe’s head was nestled perfectly into the crook of my shoulder while her fingers traced idle patterns across my chest. “I never thought I’d feel this again,” she said suddenly after the long silence, “Like someone was actually here with me instead of just… on me.”

My chest tightened; I didn’t enjoy the mental image of someone else with her, “‘Me neither. Thought maybe it wasn’t in cards anymore, or maybe I’d just spent too much time alone.'”

Phoebe turned to face me with a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth; her hair was wild from lovemaking and I wanted to run my fingers through it again, but I held back this time to let the moment breathe.

“Well, here we are,” she said simply, then leaned up to kiss me softly, no hunger behind it this time, just pure affection that made a different part of me ache. When we parted, I wondered if she felt the same strange electricity crackling between us, even after I was sated.

“Stay?” Phoebe asked, not even a question really. All I had to do was nod and let myself fall further into this spell; nothing else mattered anymore except being here with her.

I nodded. “Stay.”

We woke up late to sunlight slanting through blinds onto her rumpled sheets. Phoebe’s head was still pillowed against my shoulder, though I couldn’t remember when we’d finally drifted off. My arm felt slightly numb, but I didn’t care. It was the best kind of pain imaginable after being so starved for this kind of affection for so long without even realizing it. She stirred beside me with a soft groan, “Ugh, what time is it?” then smiled up at me sleepily, “Doesn’t matter I guess. You hungry?”

“I could eat,” I admitted. Phoebe stretched languidly, then swung her legs over the side of the bed. The sight made me smile, remembering the way they’d wrapped around my waist the night before, but I forced myself not to stare. I wasn’t a teenager discovering a woman for the first time, even though it felt that way.

“Give me a minute,” she said heading toward the bathroom; I heard water running until steam began seeping under the door. I flopped back onto my pillow with a sigh, sore in places which were apparently unused before last night, but pleasantly so, like after a good workout rather than abuse.

When Phoebe emerged wrapped only in a towel, it took every ounce of restraint not to tackle her right there on the carpet. Damp hair clung to her neck and her cheeks were still pink from the shower’s heat and prior day of being kissed by the sun. She caught my look and smirked: “‘Later,'” then disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me a little bit too excited, but now having no outlet for it.

I grumbled, but I knew she was right; food first, then maybe another round if I had my way. Everything felt possible now, and I had no doubt we’d figure it all out later. For now, there were eggs to scramble and coffee to brew while we pretended the clouds could never reach us again.

We ate on her couch with plates balanced in our laps. Phoebe wore an oversized t-shirt that hung past her hips, showing her bare legs beneath when she crossed them Indian style. I wore boxers and nothing else; it felt scandalous, yet perfectly natural too after sharing bodies so completely the night before.

“So,” she said, finally breaking silence, “Tell me something true about you. Not just facts… but the part people don’t see.'”

I paused mid-bite, “What do you mean?”

Phoebe shrugged, “Like what scares you or makes you excited when nobody’s looking. Something real instead of surface stuff.” She smiled wryly, “Not that I’m complaining about surface stuff, mind you, but…”

“Fair enough,” I said, slowly considering. I didn’t give out pieces of myself easily, especially not to near-strangers, even if we’d made love like animals just hours ago. But something in her eyes invited trust, maybe because we all shared in some of the same darkness, and she was the first thing that brought so much light into my life, even more than the sun’s sudden revelation.

I sighed: “‘Okay, well… I’m terrified of being alone forever.”’

Phoebe’s face softened, “Me too… or at least afraid of wasting time with the wrong person when the right one was out there waiting.” I wanted to pull her close again, but I held back, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

“What about you?” I asked when she didn’t continue; Phoebe looked away briefly, then met my gaze with something vulnerable peeking out from behind her usual bravado.

“I’m afraid of not being enough,” she said quietly, “like eventually whoever wants me will figure it out and leave anyway so…”

We let that hang between us for a bit, then I reached over, setting my plate aside to gently punch her shoulder like she’d done to me outside, “You are enough exactly as you are.”

Phoebe blinked rapidly before raising an eyebrow, “Really? You gonna call me ‘champ’ too?” We stayed like that for a while until it became awkward. I could feel the eggs congealing on my plate.

“You want to get dressed or…?” I finally asked when the silence stretched a bit too far for comfort; Phoebe glanced at the clock, then back at me before standing abruptly.

“Shower together instead?”

I grinned wolfishly, “Best idea you’ve had so far.”

We never did make it to the shower. Instead, we spent hours exploring each other’s bodies like pirate treasure maps – X marks the spot and all that. By early afternoon, we were perpetually tangled in sheets with Phoebe nuzzled against my neck, her warm breath deflecting off of me.

“I should probably go at some point,” I mumbled drowsily, though I made no move toward actually doing so. I wasn’t ready for this bubble to pop; reality could come later. For now, there was still sun slanting through blinds and skin to touch.

“Mmmhmmm…” Phoebe agreed non-committally. I silenced her with a kiss before she had a chance to continue. Phoebe sagged back against her pillow with a sigh, all tension bleeding out of her body like air from a punctured balloon until she was soft and pliant again in my arms where she belonged.

“‘You hungry or…?'”

A smile crept across Phoebe’s lips, “Insatiable, but only for you apparently.” I took the hint, nuzzling her neck which made her shiver deliciously, always so responsive to even the smallest touch, like she’d been starved for affection for just as long as me.

“You ever do this before?” she asked eventually. Her voice was drowsy, but genuinely curious rather than jealous, which earned points in my book since most women would’ve been fishing for past lovers by now. “Just… stayed all day?”

I hummed, considering how I should respond, “Maybe once or twice when I was young and stupid,” I admitted with a wry smile, “But never like this, it felt so…”

“Safe?” Phoebe interjected; I nodded against her back, surprised at the accuracy. “It’s never been like this, but I’m sure I’ve pretended well enough that people believed it.” She sighed, “I guess we’re both pretty good actors then, huh?”

I propped myself up on my elbows, then leaned over to study her face. She met my inquiry, her eyes so open and vulnerable that it made my chest ache with tenderness. “I’m going to be with you from this point forward,” I promised, studying her face for any sign of disagreement.

“Deal.” She smiled back, then pouted, inviting me to kiss those soft lips again because, well, why not? The kiss started like any other, soft lips meeting in slow exploration as sunlight from the blinds danced across bare skin. But something felt off immediately; when I tried to pull away, there was resistance, then a sudden tearing release that made us both cry out.

I stared at Phoebe in confusion until I saw the horror dawning on her face; I followed her gaze downwards where thin strips of pinkish flesh hung between our mouths like obscene ribbons. Her lips were splitting apart, peeling away from each other revealing raw, red meat beneath; blood welled up instantly filling the gaps.

“What’s happening?” she choked out, her voice distorted by the damage already done to her mouth. I could do nothing to answer Phoebe’s desperate plea for understanding because I still didn’t believe it was even happening. “Why won’t they…” I looked at her hands in growing terror; skin flaked off her palms like dried paint chips, her nails cracked and crumbled away, leaving oozing stumps behind.

“The sun,” I managed to say, my mind racing to piece together what could cause this kind of cellular destruction so quickly. “It must’ve been blocked or something before but now…”

“Oh God, please just…” Phoebe’s words dissolved into unintelligible murmurs as more skin began sloughing off her face in long ragged strips. Her cheeks hollowed out, leaving only a tangled mess of porcelain skin and exposed muscle beneath where blood vessels pulsed diligently.

I watched helplessly while she pushed at her own flesh, trying to stop the disintegration; her fingers dug deep gouges that bled freely and did nothing to slow its progress. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as they started clouding over milky white; I could see sclera shredding apart like tissue paper under pressure.

“Phoebe…” My voice broke completely at the sight of her dissolving before me; all those perfect features melting away until nothing remained except raw meat and exposed bone – a grotesque mockery of the woman who’d been smiling up at me just minutes ago.

I stepped to my feet gingerly, not because I was calm, but because I had no baseline reaction for such a situation. Then I quickly began to feel sick and, seeing no trash can, went for the window as if Phoebe would still care if I messed up her carpet. I expected to see another sunset outside, but was greeted by more of the same.

The city had become a hellscape while I lay coccooned in my pleasurable state of ignorance; people wandered the streets with skin peeling off their bodies in thick ribbons, like they were making curly fries out of flesh. Some clawed at their own bodies screaming while others simply stood there blankly watching themselves disintegrate with glassy eyes.

I saw a man collapse suddenly onto the sidewalk, his entire body crumbling as if his bones had just given up fulfilling their purpose. A woman nearby started shrieking hysterically until blood sprayed from her mouth, then she fell silent when her jawbone detached and clattered onto the pavement. 

More high-pitched wails cut through the chaos, some of them children. I scanned another part of the street in time to see a little girl, probably no older than five, staggering from a doorway, her parents’ lifeless bodies sprawled behind. She clawed at her cheeks sobbing until her face was nothing but raw meat, then crumpled into a pile beside them.

I couldn’t look away, and there was nothing sensible for me to do and nowhere for me to go, certainly not outdoors. Whatever was going on had crept in while I shagged and slept, and now devoured everything living without mercy. Would it happen to me soon? Did I not spend enough time in the sun? Was it even the sun? It had to be; that was the only thing that had changed everywhere simultaneously. Every person who’d stepped outside their homes yesterday, or perhaps even opened their windows, had walked into a trap they couldn’t escape. 

As I looked out at the cityscape, I noticed something that struck me as even stranger somehow: there were figures standing on rooftops across town, watching with detached curiosity as people below them dissolved into bloody ruin. They seemed completely unaffected by the sun’s rays – no peeling skin, no clouded eyes. And they weren’t trying to help either, just observing like scientists studying lab specimens.

I squinted harder through tear-blurred vision, heart pounding faster when I recognized faces from yesterday’s celebration: the tall man with salt-and-pepper hair who’d given us his soda booze, a random woman whose laughter had rung out so freely as we danced together under starlight. They were all there, every stranger who’d been dancing at the party now stood above it unscathed while everyone else perished beneath.

Rage surged through me hotter than any sunburn; I ignored the hellish abattoir for a moment, my hands clenching into fists that throbbed with each beat of my pulse. Did they know this would happen? Did they do something to make it happen?

I walked with purpose towards the door until I suddenly stumbled into it and fell. I tried to stand up again, but my leg just wouldn’t hold my weight. I looked down at it and saw hairy skin sloughing off my shins in long strips, leaving raw meat exposed beneath. I reached down, trying to press the skin back onto the meat, as if it would somehow seal itself closed.

I felt no pain, only terror; I thought about Phoebe’s face as she tried to squeeze it together in one place and prevent it from all melting away, and I realized my own process had begun. I would likely waste away in this room until I was little more than a bleeding skeleton held together by bone and tendon.