SF Drabble #434 “Torino 10”

We scrambled up from the car to high ground with only seconds to spare. We watched the wave roll down the highway, sweeping away the traffic jam with the same ease it had the beach houses and the river bridges and the low-lying towns. The sky had already gone thunderstorm-dark in an odd contrast to the horrific otherworldly glow on the horizon.

“It actually hit us,” my wife said, as if trying to convince herself to believe it, as if her senses had been lying to her all along. “I thought it’d miss us, you know, like they always do.”