The New New York City

Total silence, that is the first thing I notice when I awake from a dreamless sleep. The silence itself -- total and encompassing -- felt entirely unnatural; living in New York City, one gets used to the constant noise -- literally -- rather quickly, but this total and encompassing silence was totally contrary to the natural patter of the Big Apple. I slowly sit up, a slow realization that I do not know the place that I'm in. The room is dimly light by a narrow window high up the wall, shadows rule the corners of the room, and everywhere else that dim light seems to fight a losing battle against the shadows.

After taking in the room, I come to a quick realization: there is no door; no way out except for that narrow window, which is probably too small for me to fit through. Despite that, I run towards the window, my only escape from whatever this place is. Oddly enough, it's already been shattered by someone or something. Not caring in the slightest which it was, I crawled through and out the window, trying my best not to cut myself. Eventually I had escaped the dark dungeon, where light was being slain by the ever growing shadows, only to see that something very wrong had happened. It was quite, but not only that it was entirely silent. There were cars in the street everywhere as normal, the sky was growing dark, and the street lights were all working but there wasn't another soul within sight. Something was very wrong, obviously, bu that fact was so obvious in and of itself that it was terrifying; its sheer mass was haunting and eerie. This is New York City, now silent to the up most capacity; welcome to the New New York City: the silent one.

- Michael Hall