متیو

MATEO

1:28 p.m.

The fire has been put out.

My stomach has been screaming at me for the past twenty minutes to feed it, as if I can call time-out on my End Day to have another meal without wasting valuable time, and as if Rufus and I weren’t almost just killed in an explosion that claimed other Deckers.

Witnesses are speaking to the cops and I don’t know what they could possibly be saying. The explosion that destroyed the gym came out of nowhere.

I sit beside Rufus, his bike, and my bookstore bag. The postcards are scattered all around us and they can stay there on the ground. I don’t have it in me to write anything when there are Deckers who’ve now found themselves in body bags, on the way to the morgue.

I can’t trust this day.