The whole world rumbled around him. He was jostled to and fro, hitting into the sliding doors, bouncing off of the tightly packed working class all around him. Going home during rush hour was always rough – never a seat open. However, once those ten minutes of subway were over, he would get onto an almost empty train and relax. He would climb on, find a two seater for himself, and pop in his headphones.

He did so.

Two stops before his destination the train made an unplanned stop. The jolt brought his attention to his phone, which displayed twelve missed calls from Parents. Probably as many messages, he thought, and called back without checking them.

“IDIIOT! KAK TI MOG NE BRAT TELEOFON! KAK TAK MOZHNO, PUGAT-”

The tirade in the mothertongue aptly set the mood. His possessions, the apartment he called home, and his brother, who had chosen to work from home that day, had apparently been obliterated by a crashed airliner. World? Over.

Silver lining? The turbulence from earlier now made much more sense.