It was the longest day of my life. It lasted fifty seconds. It’s funny how time works. People think it’s all a straight line, one year here is as long as another year there, but they’d be wrong. When you’re five, one year is twenty percent of your whole life, at eighty, one year can go by in a flash. That fifty seconds lasted a lifetime, and it stole an infinity of them.
The cracks appeared everywhere and all at once. Darkness spilled out of them like it was something tangible; filling lungs, clinging, suffocating. Everyone succumbed, but they didn’t die. They disappeared. Disappeared from Earth, from time, from existence. In fifty seconds, everything that had ever happened was undone.
And now I’m here. I don’t know why, I don’t know how I know what happened, and I don’t know where here is. Fifty seconds and everything changes.