Timeline by Danica Karvala

dlkar2026 — 2023-12-15 16:39:24 UTC

At first it was seven o'clock and the house made breakfast. Eight pieces of perfectly browned toast, eight eggs sunny side up, sixteen slices of bacon, two coffees, and two cold glasses of milk.

agmaj2026 — 2023-12-15 16:44:52 UTC

Ten o'clock. The sun came out from behind the rain. The house stood alone in a city of rubble and ashes. This was the one house left standing. At night the ruined city gave off a radioactive glow which could be seen for miles.

dlkar2026 — 2023-12-15 16:45:20 UTC

At eight o'clock it was time to go to school and work, but no doors slammed, no carpets took the tread of heels. It was also raining outside. The rain tapped on the empty house making it echo.

dlkar2026 — 2023-12-15 16:49:59 UTC

At two thirty-five the tables sprouted from patio walls. The playing cards flew onto pads. Martinis manifested on an bench with egg-salad sandwiches. But the tables were silent and the cards stayed untouched.

agmaj2026 — 2023-12-15 16:53:28 UTC

At noon the dog was shivering on the porch. The dog was big and fleshy, moving through the house and tracking in mud. The mice were angry at having to clean up the mud.

dlkar2026 — 2023-12-18 21:59:43 UTC

Six, seven, and eight o'clock the dinner dishes were controlled and in the study. The metal stand on the opposite side of the hearth where a fire is now lit up warmly, a cigar appeared with soft gray ash on it, smoking.

dlkar2026 — 2023-12-18 22:02:36 UTC

At nine-five a voice spoke from the study ceiling. Asking what poem Mrs. Mclellan she would like to read, but the house was silent. Due to the house being silent, the voice picked for her, reading the poem out loud.

dlkar2026 — 2023-12-18 22:05:20 UTC

Then it was ten o'clock. The house began to die down with silence completely. The wind blew so hard that a falling tree crashed through the kitchen window. Voices screamed and squealed "Fire!" as the fire was eating under the kitchen door.

dlkar2026 — 2023-12-18 22:08:03 UTC

After the fire dawn showed in the East. Then the last voice said over and over again "Today is August 5, 2026" even when the sun rose upon the heaped rubble and stream

dlkar2026 — 2023-12-18 22:12:22 UTC

At four-thirty the walls on the nursery glowed. The animals then began to shape like yellow giraffes, blue lions, pink antelopes, and lilac panthers. Now the walls dissolved into distances of grass, mile on mile, and warm endless sky.