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A distant rumble, a light spray of dust from the ceiling. A feeling like pressure, releasing with the soft pop of a soap bubble.
Huh. That's new--
The dark cuts in.
The emergency lights click on.
Was that a gunshot?
It's hard to know, senses straining, here in the sudden dark. The reinforced doors and walls aren't apt to give up their secrets. Whatever excitement is happening out there, it'll likely you pass by like so much other noise and emptiness. Besides, tomorrow is maybe Monday if it's not any other day of the week. Sometimes there's an extra helping of desert on the food tray. You could just lie back down and . . .
. . . The doors disengage with a soft whoosh.
Huh.
