Her Words, Not Mine

The sky felt wrong. It was the same deep blue it usually was in early autumn. The low, fluffy white clouds looked both as comfortable and ominous as usual. But it all felt wrong. Dale wondered how the world had kept turning. It felt like it should have stopped moving days ago. When he’d gotten that voicemail of a call he’d ignored because he’d been annoyed. It hadn’t stopped, though. Why hadn’t it?