We were strangers to one another. We were George and Anne. On the Summer Solstice weekend, an aquatic craft froze us both inside a dawn-to-dawn loop.
Which will last generations before spitting us out. We'll never be the same when it does.
The anniversaries of our tragedy are elaborate games played on our small town's sorry citizens. After all these years, it's our best attempt to feel something.
But we're not exactly seeing eye to eye lately. So we're much less ready to relearn a reality time took from us:
