As Len’s sight returned the calamity surrounding him came into fuzzy focus. He rested slightly askew on one knee, papers fluttering airborn. The sun shone through dust kicked up by the explosion, hanging in the air unwilling to land. The murky light and ringing in his ears made the scene seem distant, removed.
“We will be gone within the hour”, Murphy had said, as he dragged her away, “You will not catch us. We’ve frozen your world.”
He had lost a sleeve and his arm was bleeding a bit. Around him the world wasn’t frozen by a long shot. He became aware of the cries from odd figures in the brown and grey fog. What did he mean frozen? His face was suffused with heat.
I have to get to her.
leaving what was left of the restaurant, his face growing hotter as he failed to ignore the moans of the wounded. The keyless didn’t work. Electricity around him seemed dead, gone. Ah, frozen.
Len stood rigid. I have to reach her. I can’t drive. I won’t make it in time. No time, he thought. What can I do? No time.
He ran.

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