Counting the seconds, p.9
Counting the Seconds, page 9
…
…
I guess...
- Zane
——————————
Day 323
——————————
I’m back working with SG. He’s currently trying to sleep while I’m taking a break to write here.
Just occurred to me that I’m on day 323. Almost a year since we got frozen, well, un-frozen in this time hellhole. A whole full freakin’ year.
The very thought of it is unbelievable. That said, I think I’m a little bit better from yesterday. Forgot to update about something little but Karen is still alive, though she spent hours throwing up whatever she had taken to kill herself.
I’m happy she’s back and guilty, because she’s back. She’s not herself anymore, almost as if there’s a light gone in her eyes. In any case, the advanced science books are all about SG at the moment. I think the mathematics was the best I could do. Adam had done most of the heavy lifting while I focused on the calculations.
SG was trying to learn both.
Whenever Adam worked on his stuff, he’d send me the values he wanted to run through some weird equation and I’d use the maths book and a blank sheet of paper to help. I wasn’t a master or anything but I like to think I read the damn book till I could remember it line for line.
In any case, SG is trying to continue from where Adam left off. Something about the right yield. I assume that to be explosion, so maybe Adam was working on firing a warhead to the meteorite.
I doubt it is that though. Adam has said the meteorite is massive enough that a mere warhead will barely dent it, especially when it gets close. He mentioned something briefly about nothing having the necessary yield to properly disperse it.
SG wants to see if we can figure out how to pull it off.
And I agree.
- Zane
——————————
Day 325
——————————
Not much to say. I’ve got a stupid headache and I want to sleep. Karen and Anna are usually together nowadays. SG and I are usually working. Bill, Ricardo, Mike and Matthew are somewhere around the building. I don’t know.
Whatever, really.
- Zane
——————————
Day 330
——————————
So… some good fucking news, right!
SG and I have done what we set out to do. We haven’t told the other guys yet but it feels so relieving to know that we have something.
With the diligent use of the textbook and some sleepless, frustrating moments, SG and I managed to construct an equation to calculate how much energy it would require to do something about the meteor.
It took three values for it to work, the distance of the meteor, the size at the calculated distance and the missile’s explosive magnitude, or something of the sorts.
I’m not 100% certain on the precise accuracy of the equation but it is so freeing.
So free-
---
Man, every time something good happens, something shit follows right along like a stalker.
The women screamed and we all ran to find them staring at a stiff. A man. Anna swore she saw the man twitch his arms a little bit.
We didn’t believe at first, as the stiff had his back to us but Bill’s exclaim made it clear that something wasn’t quite right. At all.
The man had a terrified look, like he was suddenly seeing something that he hadn’t seen before. And not just him.
About half the stiffs had the same terrified face, same pale look. SG ran away for a moment and returned back with sweat on his forehead and he explained that at least 1 in every 3 stiffs had a sudden fright expression.
Mike said maybe time resumed for a short moment and while we might have not felt anything, for them, it must have been like teleporting.
That dampened the mood.
SG tried to lighten it by saying that we have gotten the equation for the meteor and he said it with a hopeful smile on his face.
Until Karen asked the simple question.
“So how can we use it?”
- Zane
——————————
Day 332
——————————
We spent the rest of the day checking all the stiffs to ensure it was the same. It was mostly to hide the fact that we didn’t have any answer to the question in the air. SG looked slightly unhinged. And tired. Like as if the question had drained him of everything.
I myself… I’m not quite sure what the next step is.
- Zane
——————————
Day 336
——————————
It’s taken me most of the day to catch up but it’s been worth the read. I’m sad that we never got to get something from Agnes, but then again, she was not around and only showed when the raiders showed up.
I don’t want to think that she led them here. I don’t want to call her a traitor. Or whatever.
The question Karen asked…
I don’t know.
Seemed far too heavy a question to ask but it was valid… It is valid.
We know how to supposedly stop the meteor. But we can’t physically do anything.
Zane and SG look gaunt. Karen has dead eyes. Ricardo hasn’t shown up in days. Trey has been missing since the attack. I saw him take a hit to the head but I haven’t seen him since then.
I?
I’ve been done for a while.
Been looking for a reason to carry on, holding on to the naive dream that Zane will solve everything.
Well.
It’s not the first time I’ve been disappointed.
- Anna
——————————
Day 340
——————————
Ricardo is nowhere to be found. Trey is nowhere to be found. And now Karen and Bill are missing.
I’m worried. I can’t help but be worried but I hope they don’t-
- Anna
——————————
Day 341
——————————
Anna is in shock.
I wasn’t that close to her but we all heard the sound of glass shattering and the sound of two bodies hitting the floor outside the building.
When SG and I went to check, we found Karen and Bill.
Mike lost his senses and shot himself with a gun we didn’t even know he had.
It looked like the one Anna used on me.
Now, we’re just three.
- Zane
——————————
Day 344
——————————
My name is Shawn Evary.
I’m 28. Single.
Both my parents passed when I was a baby so I got raised in my aunt’s house. She was abusive and eventually got reported which landed me in foster care. A couple saw me, liked me and took me in. Gave me a home, a life and some love, I guess. They helped me… to not give up, I mean.
The name, ‘shitGenius69’, was born out of a juvenile moment I had with a fling back in high school. I used the name online and it eventually became who I was. I’m supposed to be in college or maybe in my last year.
I wanted to be one of the internet heroes instead, you know. Hack companies, hold them ransom, get rich and then leak the documents anyway. I tried learning to code but I’m not that good in IT. Not as good as the guys who actually know what they are doing.
I did try to learn. And I did improve…
But then I got a side-job as an excuse to stay home and keep my foster parents off my back. They had done quite a lot for me so I wanted to keep them happy enough. I was still damaged though, I think. The job took my time and when I got home, if it wasn’t jerking off to a new fetish, it was debating conspiracy theories on the web.
The dream of hacking slowly faded.
I never was in any real danger, I guess. That’s why I suppose I’m here.
I desperately wished this was going to be my moment. It is selfish, I know… but this was going to change everything for me. Make me a hero. Make me more than what I was in my bedroom. More than what I was on the internet. Make my parents proud. Both set of parents.
Dreams, uh?
My name is Shawn.
Please remember me.
- Shawn (shitGenius)
——————————
Day 350
——————————
It’s been six days since we saw SG… Since we saw Shawn last. We don’t even know when he left. Or where he went to. Anna cried. I cried.
And then we made love. Because intimacy always works like that in movies, right?
It’s all so silly.
All those days ago, when I thought this was going to be temporary. To think it was going to be permanent for us. The trapped ones.
The days passed.
We cried some more. We sexed some more.
Trying to fill the ever-gaping hole in ourselves. But there’s no hope there. Not really.
This is the end of the road for us and there’s no guide on how to navigate it.
I’m not sure on what to do next.
I just need to cry some more.
- Zane
——————————
Day 353
——————————
I’m not sure of what is out there anymore.
I don’t know if this curse will ever pass. I’m not sure I care much anymore. All I have are painful memories and regrets. To think this is all within a second. A damn second. It’s a cruel joke, really.
It was just like every other day. The kids in their rooms, reading or playing their games. Trevor and I watching some random TV show. I was resting my head on his legs as we talked and joked about the shit we had gone through that day. Then they ran down… the kids, I mean, to join us. I can’t even remember why but somehow, we all started laughing. It was bliss.
And then, it wasn’t.
To them, it would be between laughs. Between breaths.
I… I don’t think I can tell them about this. Not face-to-face. I, for sure, can’t tell the kids. But, Trev…
Babe…
—
Trevor…
If you ever, ever, get a chance to see this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being weak and spineless. For not being able to see the light at the end. If you were here, I know you’d tell me that I wasn’t weak. You’d wax on about how brave I am for continuing on or fighting back against Him. You would tell me that you love me. That I’m the most capable woman you’ve ever met. You’d dot on me and kiss on me like it’s the last time you’d be seeing me.
I miss the kisses. I miss your words. I miss the comforting feeling of just knowing that you’re close by me. Everyone thinks I’m holding on somehow, that I’m coping with the hands I’ve been dealt. I’m not. I’m breaking apart at the seams and every moment longer is a moment closer to an end.
I miss you, baby.
So fucking much.
- Anna
——————————
Day 365
——————————
Hey Guys…
If you find this, and I hope you do because there’s a big post-it note on it, please apologise to my family. And to all the shop owners with the IOU notes. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Honestly, we hoped that we get to re-join you back in time. We wouldn’t have been okay, and I’ve got issues that I don’t think will ever be quite talked out but… It would have been nice to be back in time.
I’m the only one left. Here, at least. Might be more around the world. I don’t know. Doesn’t really matter at this point. I’ve tried to move everyone and everything back to where they were. I most definitely got it wrong so if you find yourself in the kitchen instead of the command room, I am deeply sorry. There’s only so much I could remember without dwelling on the fact that my companions are gone.
The table I’m sitting on is clear though. I know this is the manager’s office so, Mr Bluth, I am sorry that you’re about to come to, to a dead man on your table. You’re not the killer or anything. I’ve put extra notes around the office to stave off the suspicion. Just figured, this is as good as any place to fall asleep for the last time.
I did try to leave… To leave behind everyone and continue moving from place to place. I didn’t get far. I mean, it wasn’t like there was anything else out there that was worth being awake for. Didn’t think I’d want to live the rest of my years stuck in a time-frozen world. Plus, there’s the thing with the meteorite too.
I’m not sure where Anna is. I guess she’s walked away too the day after her update in the journal. It’s hard to say really but she wasn’t there when I opened my eyes. And, that’s really it on that front. I found some pills under the blanket she slept in. It’s what I ingested some minutes ago. Maybe, it was a message from her. I don’t know. But it’s all she left behind for me.
Also, Mr Manager, there’s another note on the table. It holds the equation for the meteorite hurling itself towards us. We are not pros. Most of our assumptions and calculations were dependent on Adam’s work and a lot of on-the-job reading. But I hope we at least got close enough to be of help. If we didn’t, well, you can teach us in the afterlife.
I am… scared of dying…
Very scared.
But there’s nothing else left that can be done. So maybe it’s time I face this fear. The pills are in my system already.
There’s a part of me that is still shouting at me to not give up. But its voice is not as loud as it had been when I was still roaming around my parents’ house, alone. Finding companionship and then losing it… I don’t know. I guess it just hurts to gain something, only to lose it.
I am scared. But I can’t see myself pushing through. Perhaps, this is what is needed for time to restart. For the normal to be saved from the impending doom hurtling towards them. I don’t even know if it would make a difference, but I guess it is something to hold on to.
So… I guess it’s time I faced the fear.
Yours immortally,
Zane Smith.
Epilogue
[Freelance Journalist, Matthew Rocking, is sitting across from me in a small Starbucks shop in Brighton. Having been one of the few journalists responsible for chasing down leads and discovering the few who had been ‘unfrozen’ by time. The effort had earned him a nomination for Journalist of the year in the UK. Most of his acclaim originated from one of his first investigative pieces regarding the graffiti of London.]
To say that there was an uproar when ‘Time’ restarted would be a gross understatement for the scene we returned to, as a collective race. I’d have to admit, I was on the London Underground then, heading towards Oxford Street to conduct an interview with a couple who had gone viral with the video off their little corgi playing football.
It was a waste of my talents, but it paid the bills, so I didn’t complain much.
That said, as we exited the underground, all marching out of the station in the same haze as per any working day, we were met with chaos on the street. People were screaming and running. Police sirens filled the air. Ambulances wove through the street in haste and we saw some buildings on fire.
My phone had lit up with numerous messages recalling me back to the office. I called my manager and he had relayed a brief summary of what had happened. Most of us thought it was local, until we got word that it was an international problem.
Except I wasn’t sure what the problem was exactly.
That is, until I saw the news article trending on twitter about the Buckingham Palace having large, egregious graffiti painting the walls and the grounds of the estate, along with the added by-line of the Queen missing.
The Queen was missing? From her home? Or the palace?
It didn’t matter.
I mean, as soon as the authorities came to, and saw that society appeared different than it did a ‘blink’ ago, they began to investigate what had happened. The guards in front of the palace, as well as the tourists lined outside the gates to take pictures, had seen it almost immediately.
Alarms were raised, and society went into shock.
Was the Queen harmed? Was she found? What about the rest of the royal family?
She was found safe. As it turned out, a few of the maids serving them at the time had been unfrozen too and felt it was their express duty to ensure the protection of the Queen.
So, they safely removed her from where she was, wherever that was, and took her to a remote location in some village somewhere.
At least, that’s the official story that came out about her. From what I heard about the rest, the other royals were frozen but no harm, that I know of, came to them.
That is interesting. You’ve been nominated for an award for your work at identifying the culprits behind the graffiti among other crimes. How did that come about?
So, as I said before, the corgi interview was going to wait regardless. As soon as my manager explained what was happening, and with the BBC headlining the Queen’s disappearance and all that, I dropped my previous interview and went searching.
Helicopters flew above the castle, as news reporters droned on and on about the graffiti and this and that, and I screen-grabbed a picture of the art. See, one of the few things I learnt, back when I was young, is that graffiti artists usually had a tag.
…
I guess...
- Zane
——————————
Day 323
——————————
I’m back working with SG. He’s currently trying to sleep while I’m taking a break to write here.
Just occurred to me that I’m on day 323. Almost a year since we got frozen, well, un-frozen in this time hellhole. A whole full freakin’ year.
The very thought of it is unbelievable. That said, I think I’m a little bit better from yesterday. Forgot to update about something little but Karen is still alive, though she spent hours throwing up whatever she had taken to kill herself.
I’m happy she’s back and guilty, because she’s back. She’s not herself anymore, almost as if there’s a light gone in her eyes. In any case, the advanced science books are all about SG at the moment. I think the mathematics was the best I could do. Adam had done most of the heavy lifting while I focused on the calculations.
SG was trying to learn both.
Whenever Adam worked on his stuff, he’d send me the values he wanted to run through some weird equation and I’d use the maths book and a blank sheet of paper to help. I wasn’t a master or anything but I like to think I read the damn book till I could remember it line for line.
In any case, SG is trying to continue from where Adam left off. Something about the right yield. I assume that to be explosion, so maybe Adam was working on firing a warhead to the meteorite.
I doubt it is that though. Adam has said the meteorite is massive enough that a mere warhead will barely dent it, especially when it gets close. He mentioned something briefly about nothing having the necessary yield to properly disperse it.
SG wants to see if we can figure out how to pull it off.
And I agree.
- Zane
——————————
Day 325
——————————
Not much to say. I’ve got a stupid headache and I want to sleep. Karen and Anna are usually together nowadays. SG and I are usually working. Bill, Ricardo, Mike and Matthew are somewhere around the building. I don’t know.
Whatever, really.
- Zane
——————————
Day 330
——————————
So… some good fucking news, right!
SG and I have done what we set out to do. We haven’t told the other guys yet but it feels so relieving to know that we have something.
With the diligent use of the textbook and some sleepless, frustrating moments, SG and I managed to construct an equation to calculate how much energy it would require to do something about the meteor.
It took three values for it to work, the distance of the meteor, the size at the calculated distance and the missile’s explosive magnitude, or something of the sorts.
I’m not 100% certain on the precise accuracy of the equation but it is so freeing.
So free-
---
Man, every time something good happens, something shit follows right along like a stalker.
The women screamed and we all ran to find them staring at a stiff. A man. Anna swore she saw the man twitch his arms a little bit.
We didn’t believe at first, as the stiff had his back to us but Bill’s exclaim made it clear that something wasn’t quite right. At all.
The man had a terrified look, like he was suddenly seeing something that he hadn’t seen before. And not just him.
About half the stiffs had the same terrified face, same pale look. SG ran away for a moment and returned back with sweat on his forehead and he explained that at least 1 in every 3 stiffs had a sudden fright expression.
Mike said maybe time resumed for a short moment and while we might have not felt anything, for them, it must have been like teleporting.
That dampened the mood.
SG tried to lighten it by saying that we have gotten the equation for the meteor and he said it with a hopeful smile on his face.
Until Karen asked the simple question.
“So how can we use it?”
- Zane
——————————
Day 332
——————————
We spent the rest of the day checking all the stiffs to ensure it was the same. It was mostly to hide the fact that we didn’t have any answer to the question in the air. SG looked slightly unhinged. And tired. Like as if the question had drained him of everything.
I myself… I’m not quite sure what the next step is.
- Zane
——————————
Day 336
——————————
It’s taken me most of the day to catch up but it’s been worth the read. I’m sad that we never got to get something from Agnes, but then again, she was not around and only showed when the raiders showed up.
I don’t want to think that she led them here. I don’t want to call her a traitor. Or whatever.
The question Karen asked…
I don’t know.
Seemed far too heavy a question to ask but it was valid… It is valid.
We know how to supposedly stop the meteor. But we can’t physically do anything.
Zane and SG look gaunt. Karen has dead eyes. Ricardo hasn’t shown up in days. Trey has been missing since the attack. I saw him take a hit to the head but I haven’t seen him since then.
I?
I’ve been done for a while.
Been looking for a reason to carry on, holding on to the naive dream that Zane will solve everything.
Well.
It’s not the first time I’ve been disappointed.
- Anna
——————————
Day 340
——————————
Ricardo is nowhere to be found. Trey is nowhere to be found. And now Karen and Bill are missing.
I’m worried. I can’t help but be worried but I hope they don’t-
- Anna
——————————
Day 341
——————————
Anna is in shock.
I wasn’t that close to her but we all heard the sound of glass shattering and the sound of two bodies hitting the floor outside the building.
When SG and I went to check, we found Karen and Bill.
Mike lost his senses and shot himself with a gun we didn’t even know he had.
It looked like the one Anna used on me.
Now, we’re just three.
- Zane
——————————
Day 344
——————————
My name is Shawn Evary.
I’m 28. Single.
Both my parents passed when I was a baby so I got raised in my aunt’s house. She was abusive and eventually got reported which landed me in foster care. A couple saw me, liked me and took me in. Gave me a home, a life and some love, I guess. They helped me… to not give up, I mean.
The name, ‘shitGenius69’, was born out of a juvenile moment I had with a fling back in high school. I used the name online and it eventually became who I was. I’m supposed to be in college or maybe in my last year.
I wanted to be one of the internet heroes instead, you know. Hack companies, hold them ransom, get rich and then leak the documents anyway. I tried learning to code but I’m not that good in IT. Not as good as the guys who actually know what they are doing.
I did try to learn. And I did improve…
But then I got a side-job as an excuse to stay home and keep my foster parents off my back. They had done quite a lot for me so I wanted to keep them happy enough. I was still damaged though, I think. The job took my time and when I got home, if it wasn’t jerking off to a new fetish, it was debating conspiracy theories on the web.
The dream of hacking slowly faded.
I never was in any real danger, I guess. That’s why I suppose I’m here.
I desperately wished this was going to be my moment. It is selfish, I know… but this was going to change everything for me. Make me a hero. Make me more than what I was in my bedroom. More than what I was on the internet. Make my parents proud. Both set of parents.
Dreams, uh?
My name is Shawn.
Please remember me.
- Shawn (shitGenius)
——————————
Day 350
——————————
It’s been six days since we saw SG… Since we saw Shawn last. We don’t even know when he left. Or where he went to. Anna cried. I cried.
And then we made love. Because intimacy always works like that in movies, right?
It’s all so silly.
All those days ago, when I thought this was going to be temporary. To think it was going to be permanent for us. The trapped ones.
The days passed.
We cried some more. We sexed some more.
Trying to fill the ever-gaping hole in ourselves. But there’s no hope there. Not really.
This is the end of the road for us and there’s no guide on how to navigate it.
I’m not sure on what to do next.
I just need to cry some more.
- Zane
——————————
Day 353
——————————
I’m not sure of what is out there anymore.
I don’t know if this curse will ever pass. I’m not sure I care much anymore. All I have are painful memories and regrets. To think this is all within a second. A damn second. It’s a cruel joke, really.
It was just like every other day. The kids in their rooms, reading or playing their games. Trevor and I watching some random TV show. I was resting my head on his legs as we talked and joked about the shit we had gone through that day. Then they ran down… the kids, I mean, to join us. I can’t even remember why but somehow, we all started laughing. It was bliss.
And then, it wasn’t.
To them, it would be between laughs. Between breaths.
I… I don’t think I can tell them about this. Not face-to-face. I, for sure, can’t tell the kids. But, Trev…
Babe…
—
Trevor…
If you ever, ever, get a chance to see this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being weak and spineless. For not being able to see the light at the end. If you were here, I know you’d tell me that I wasn’t weak. You’d wax on about how brave I am for continuing on or fighting back against Him. You would tell me that you love me. That I’m the most capable woman you’ve ever met. You’d dot on me and kiss on me like it’s the last time you’d be seeing me.
I miss the kisses. I miss your words. I miss the comforting feeling of just knowing that you’re close by me. Everyone thinks I’m holding on somehow, that I’m coping with the hands I’ve been dealt. I’m not. I’m breaking apart at the seams and every moment longer is a moment closer to an end.
I miss you, baby.
So fucking much.
- Anna
——————————
Day 365
——————————
Hey Guys…
If you find this, and I hope you do because there’s a big post-it note on it, please apologise to my family. And to all the shop owners with the IOU notes. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Honestly, we hoped that we get to re-join you back in time. We wouldn’t have been okay, and I’ve got issues that I don’t think will ever be quite talked out but… It would have been nice to be back in time.
I’m the only one left. Here, at least. Might be more around the world. I don’t know. Doesn’t really matter at this point. I’ve tried to move everyone and everything back to where they were. I most definitely got it wrong so if you find yourself in the kitchen instead of the command room, I am deeply sorry. There’s only so much I could remember without dwelling on the fact that my companions are gone.
The table I’m sitting on is clear though. I know this is the manager’s office so, Mr Bluth, I am sorry that you’re about to come to, to a dead man on your table. You’re not the killer or anything. I’ve put extra notes around the office to stave off the suspicion. Just figured, this is as good as any place to fall asleep for the last time.
I did try to leave… To leave behind everyone and continue moving from place to place. I didn’t get far. I mean, it wasn’t like there was anything else out there that was worth being awake for. Didn’t think I’d want to live the rest of my years stuck in a time-frozen world. Plus, there’s the thing with the meteorite too.
I’m not sure where Anna is. I guess she’s walked away too the day after her update in the journal. It’s hard to say really but she wasn’t there when I opened my eyes. And, that’s really it on that front. I found some pills under the blanket she slept in. It’s what I ingested some minutes ago. Maybe, it was a message from her. I don’t know. But it’s all she left behind for me.
Also, Mr Manager, there’s another note on the table. It holds the equation for the meteorite hurling itself towards us. We are not pros. Most of our assumptions and calculations were dependent on Adam’s work and a lot of on-the-job reading. But I hope we at least got close enough to be of help. If we didn’t, well, you can teach us in the afterlife.
I am… scared of dying…
Very scared.
But there’s nothing else left that can be done. So maybe it’s time I face this fear. The pills are in my system already.
There’s a part of me that is still shouting at me to not give up. But its voice is not as loud as it had been when I was still roaming around my parents’ house, alone. Finding companionship and then losing it… I don’t know. I guess it just hurts to gain something, only to lose it.
I am scared. But I can’t see myself pushing through. Perhaps, this is what is needed for time to restart. For the normal to be saved from the impending doom hurtling towards them. I don’t even know if it would make a difference, but I guess it is something to hold on to.
So… I guess it’s time I faced the fear.
Yours immortally,
Zane Smith.
Epilogue
[Freelance Journalist, Matthew Rocking, is sitting across from me in a small Starbucks shop in Brighton. Having been one of the few journalists responsible for chasing down leads and discovering the few who had been ‘unfrozen’ by time. The effort had earned him a nomination for Journalist of the year in the UK. Most of his acclaim originated from one of his first investigative pieces regarding the graffiti of London.]
To say that there was an uproar when ‘Time’ restarted would be a gross understatement for the scene we returned to, as a collective race. I’d have to admit, I was on the London Underground then, heading towards Oxford Street to conduct an interview with a couple who had gone viral with the video off their little corgi playing football.
It was a waste of my talents, but it paid the bills, so I didn’t complain much.
That said, as we exited the underground, all marching out of the station in the same haze as per any working day, we were met with chaos on the street. People were screaming and running. Police sirens filled the air. Ambulances wove through the street in haste and we saw some buildings on fire.
My phone had lit up with numerous messages recalling me back to the office. I called my manager and he had relayed a brief summary of what had happened. Most of us thought it was local, until we got word that it was an international problem.
Except I wasn’t sure what the problem was exactly.
That is, until I saw the news article trending on twitter about the Buckingham Palace having large, egregious graffiti painting the walls and the grounds of the estate, along with the added by-line of the Queen missing.
The Queen was missing? From her home? Or the palace?
It didn’t matter.
I mean, as soon as the authorities came to, and saw that society appeared different than it did a ‘blink’ ago, they began to investigate what had happened. The guards in front of the palace, as well as the tourists lined outside the gates to take pictures, had seen it almost immediately.
Alarms were raised, and society went into shock.
Was the Queen harmed? Was she found? What about the rest of the royal family?
She was found safe. As it turned out, a few of the maids serving them at the time had been unfrozen too and felt it was their express duty to ensure the protection of the Queen.
So, they safely removed her from where she was, wherever that was, and took her to a remote location in some village somewhere.
At least, that’s the official story that came out about her. From what I heard about the rest, the other royals were frozen but no harm, that I know of, came to them.
That is interesting. You’ve been nominated for an award for your work at identifying the culprits behind the graffiti among other crimes. How did that come about?
So, as I said before, the corgi interview was going to wait regardless. As soon as my manager explained what was happening, and with the BBC headlining the Queen’s disappearance and all that, I dropped my previous interview and went searching.
Helicopters flew above the castle, as news reporters droned on and on about the graffiti and this and that, and I screen-grabbed a picture of the art. See, one of the few things I learnt, back when I was young, is that graffiti artists usually had a tag.
