The traffic lights turned to turquoise, so abruptly and without prior notice that people hailed it as the biggest miracle since Christ’s face appeared on a burned piece of toast. News outlets everywhere ran stories about the world-wide phenomenon. John, of course, didn’t know about it, because he was, like all heroes in modern stories, asleep at the time.
Our story unfolds on an otherwise unspectacular Tuesday.
John was sitting cross-legged, on his bed, contemplating on simply not showing up to work. It was 6:43 am, if one were to believe the big red digital display at the other end of the room. He briefly thought about laying back. How great it would feel to hide under the blanket for another 10 minutes, willing the day to not even start.
He almost made up his mind, when he noticed something was off. You see, it was not uncommon to hear strange things every now and then. It was, after all, a high rise building where John lived, and he had many neighbours. Some were younger, some were older, but all had a knack of being obnoxiously loud at almost every time of the day.
In the evenings, going into the nights, the college students - Fred and Duncan if John’s memory served him well - showed off their taste in music, along with their preference for drunkenly discussing the meaning of life by yelling over the sound of various heavy metal songs.
The mornings brought retaliation by the old ones - Mrs. Miggins especially, who seems to have made it her life goal to wake up every day at 5 am to listen to the local christian radio station.
John, having lived there for quite some years, has learned to tune them out. Yet something was off. He couldn’t put his finger on it though, but knew that something was up. He had to investigate.
John hopped out of the bed, determined to grab a coffee first. He shuffled into the kitchen and took his position at the Helm. It was simply a kitchen counter if we’re being honest, but John liked to call it the Helm because he could reach everything, and felt like the captain of a spaceship. He started to boil water, took the coffee and sugar out of the cupboard, reached into the fridge for the milk, the drawer for a spoon, and the cupboard again for a mug. While waiting for the water to boil he added a spoonful of coffee and sugar into the cup, mindlessly mixing them together to form a greyish powder.
He still couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Glancing up at the clock he saw it was about quarter to seven - still some time to get ready. Looking back to the water boiler he realized that nothing was happening. Though it was on, the water refused to boil. Touching it he realized the water was even refusing to be warm.
John sighed - no coffee just yet then, he’ll have to grab it from the place downstairs from the old lady who ran the grocery store. He went back to the room to get out of his pajamas and into the company approved apparel. He noticed the clock again, still showing 6:43.
He then realized what was wrong. It was too quiet. Not like Mrs. Miggins to forget to get up for his morning worship, but it wasn’t just that. The birds, the traffic, there was simply no sound. The silence was overwhelming.
He looked out of the window, and couldn’t believe his eyes. Everything was frozen in place. Birds, cars, people, nobody moved, not even an inch. John quickly dressed up and bolted for the door, his mind racing. What had happened while he was asleep? Why is everyone frozen in place? Why is he not? Are there others? Is he going to live the rest of his days like this?
Reaching the lift he pressed the call button, waiting impatiently for the cab to arrive, but nothing happened. And then, just as before, nothing continued to happen. John rolled his eyes and turned towards the stairs. 27 floors until the street level, he was not looking forward to the return trip. He ran, never before this fast, down the stairs, hoping against all hope that his mind was only playing tricks on him.
He crashed into the door at the bottom of the stairs, flinging it open, which in turn threw him out into the lobby, sprawling out on the floor. Panting, he looked up, but no one was there. He got up and went outside - sadly, it was as before, everyone and everything was stuck motionless in time. As if someone took a snapshot of the world. Or paused a game.
John was dumbstruck. His mind was coming up blank. No answers. The situation was so absurd that there weren’t even snarky comments. He saw Mrs Miggins down among a couple of people. She was in her nightgown, looking curiously at something. It was weird seeing someone so still. Unnatural. He started to look for what Mrs Miggins was looking at, and only after a while had he noticed it.
The traffic lights. It was green, but not green. It was Turquoise, which is a weird state for a traffic light to be in. He sure hasn’t learned about this in driving school. Looking around he saw the same thing for the traffic light for the crosswalk as well. He stepped a bit closer, trying to figure out what kind of trick his mind is playing on him.
But then the light suddenly changed to red.
And then the murders began.
