12th of March 2027.
As the sun rears its bright head over the horizon, engulfing the landscape in its golden light, it flashes one man's face with its yellow rays, awakening him from his deep slumber. Claude opens his eyes to find himself in his childhood bedroom, all alone. Everything, from the posters to the furniture, was exactly where he had left it.
He pushes the sheets away from his body and gets off the bed. Upon doing a few stretches, he could hear some air bubbles in his bones pop, making a cracking sound people often mistake for breaking bones. After grabbing the toothbrush that he bought from the store yesterday, Claude walks into a small bathroom next to his bedroom to brush his teeth.
As he approaches the mirror and gazes into his reflection, he is suddenly taken aback and slightly disgusted by what he sees: a lonely loser who has no meaning, no sense of purpose, and no direction in life.
Those deep brown eyes, once filled with vigor and passion in the past, have now turned dull and sterile. His once-beautiful smile that brightened everyone's mood was now gone, replaced with a depressed look, surrounded by a stubby little brown beard he hadn't shaved yet.
Once his teeth were firmly brushed and cleaned, he used some mouthwash to rid the stench that permeated his mouth. He then steps into the shower, a small compartment with translucent walls, and takes his clothes off before turning the shower on.
Warm water starts raining down on him, relaxing and invigorating his sleepy nerves. Suddenly, flashes of the night before play in his mind. Fire. A huge fire, engulfing a tall stone building in the heart of the city. People stand on their balconies, screaming in fear for their lives, all while he looked down from below, witnessing his entire life's work disappear.
They said it was a few gas leaks filling up one bloke's apartment, eventually spreading into the rest of the building. As to how it got ignited, they still don't know how. They suspect a lighter was involved, maybe used to light up a cigarette.
It doesn't matter anyway. The fire engulfed the entire building and burned it to the ground. All his belongings he worked hard to buy, such as his video game collection, his PlayStation, and his clothes, all of it razed to ashes. All he had left was his job, his crippling student loans, and his loving mother, Bella.
Once Claude was done taking his shower, he dried his brown hair with a soft blue towel and headed back to his room. There, placed on the bed he used to sleep on for the night, were some freshly ironed blue jeans, a black shirt, and a blue jacket.
"Ma? Did you iron these clothes for me?" He yells into the corridor of his house, hoping that his mother will hear him. He had a thick Italian New York accent, something you'd hear from the Goodfellas.
"I did, Sweetie! I ironed them while you were in the shower!" Her muffled reply reaches his ear.
"Thanks, Ma. I appreciate it," he told her.
Claude wasted no time putting on the clothes his mother had ironed out for him. Once dressed in the casual uniform his corporate bosses desired, he headed downstairs and walked to the dining room, where his sweet mother Bella was waiting for him.
She was a slim woman, around 5 feet and 6 inches tall. Though her face and body were starting to show their age, as wrinkles covered parts of her skin and bits of gray hair stuck out like a sore thumb, his mother's movements were still smooth and delicate, as if she hadn't aged at all. She eventually turns around and spots Claude standing in the room.
"Ah! Claude! You are here! Sit down, honey. I made some breakfast," Bella greets her son. Once Claude takes his seat, his mother hands him a ceramic plate stacked with pancakes, hashbrowns, bacon, and some scrambled eggs.
"Ma, you know this food isn't healthy for the body, right?" He speaks up.
"I am not sure that's how you say 'thank you," she responds.
"I am just saying, Ma! I don't think I can eat all this! There is a lot of food here," he tries to explain.
"Oh please, look at you. You are all skinny and everything. I almost didn't recognize you when you came to my door. You ought to put on more weight," Bella answers back.
"And besides, it's just one day. What's the harm in indulging yourself a little?" she adds.
Although Claude wanted to retort, he knew talking back would just bring out the nastier and rageful side of his mother, one that hid under that gentle and warm smile. And besides, the smell of his American cuisine entering his nostrils caused a flood of saliva in his mouth, forcing it shut. Plus, his mother had worked hard to make this food for him. It would be rude of him to NOT eat it! Or so he tells himself.
As he moves his hand to grab his fork to dig into his food, his mother suddenly stops him by slapping his wrist. With an authoritative tone, she speaks up and tells him what he did wrong.
"Hey! Where are your manners, young man? We got to say grace first!" she reminds him.
"Oh, right. Sorry," he apologizes. Although Bella was never the religious type, she always forced Claude to say grace before they ate their food. He didn't exactly know what her reasoning was, but he never ended up asking her in the first place. In the end, he chalked it up to being some habit of hers, instilled in her childhood.
After putting off the frown on her face, she grabs Claude's hands and tells him to close his eyes. She then starts the prayer, thanking the Lord for putting food on the table. Once it was over, the two let go of each other's hands and started digging into the delicious meal right in front of them.
"How is the food, dear? Is it good?" she asks her son after he took in a few bites.
"Very good. This is a lot better than the stuff I make for myself." Bella smiles, pleased to hear that her son prefers her cooking.
"Any luck on finding a partner?"
"No, not really."
"Hm… I see. Might have something to do with that beard you got. You ought to shave it off," she suggests.
"I mean, I have told you many times that a beard just looks horrible on you. But you don't listen to me, do you?" she adds.
"But ma! I like the beard! I…" Claude tries to explain again but is immediately cut off.
"You may like it, but others don't. You look like a monster and everything. You'd be doing everyone a favor if you just shaved it off," she interjects.
"How about work then? Do you have any friends there?" She inquires, changing the subject.
Claude stuffs his mouth full of food to buy himself some time to think. He knew he didn't have any friends at work, nor did he have the courage to make any. The open-space offices of the modern world were a stressful environment, not suited to the establishment of friendships among the workers. Though he had everyone's numbers, they only called to talk about business, nothing else.
But Claude couldn't tell that to his mother, not after that first reaction he got. There, he decides that he would be better off telling her a little white lie, with a bit of truth mixed in to make it more believable.
"Yeah. They are great. We play pool from time to time. I might not be good at it, but it is something," he asserts.
"Hmm. Is that so? Well, they aren't very good friends, are they?"
"What do you mean, ma?"
"Well, they refused to let you sleep in their place when your apartment burned down. You were forced to drive all the way out here in the middle of the night just to get a proper place to stay. What kind of people let that happen to their friends?"
"No, ma, it's not like that. I never told them about... anything, yet. I called and came to you first because, well, I missed you," he answers with a half-truth.
"Aw. I feel touched," she smiles.
"You know, Claude. I think this whole thing might actually be a blessing in disguise for you. Now that you have to stay with me, I can help you get yourself back in order," Bella claims.
"I don't know, Ma. I don't think I need your help with that," Claude refuses her help. Bella suddenly stops moving her hands around. She lets go of the utensils that were half buried in the food and then looks up at Claude. He immediately felt her mother's gaze fixed upon him, just staring him down.
"Look at yourself in the mirror, Claude. You look terrible. I told you this was going to happen if you left, but you didn't listen to me, did you?" She adds, citing Claude's depressed appearance for his misery and blaming him for it all. Claude keeps silent, unable to come up with a proper response. She looked back down at her food again and continued to eat.
"By the way, are you sure you cannot take today off work? I mean, your home just burned down, and you look so awful! Couldn't they have cut you some slack?" She inquires.
"It's alright, ma. It's just one day. I will try to take tomorrow off. Alright?" he tells her.
"Alright. Whatever you say, my child."
Once they were done with breakfast, Claude packed up his bag and headed outside his mother's home. As he walks outside to reach his car parked on the driveway, his mother calls out to him to give him some comforting words just before he heads out.
"Remember Claude! If you need anyone to talk to, just call me. Your mother will always be there for you!"
"Of course, Ma. Thank you." Claude, just before taking a step inside his car, waved his mother goodbye. He then sits inside the modern contraption, presses a button to turn the engine on, and starts driving through the suburbs, headed straight towards Manhattan.
…
Claude was found sitting on a wooden bench in Central Park, scrolling through his phone. It was currently 1:44 pm, with 16 minutes left till his lunch break was over. He had already stuffed his belly with some healthy food he ordered from a restaurant he liked. However, instead of heading back inside that sterile nightmare they call an office, Claude decided to spend the rest of his time here, admiring the beautiful nature around him.
Once he was done with whatever business he had within that screen, he put his phone away to look at the park. As he surveys his surroundings, Claude spots something strange on the grassy floor of the park. There was a little hole in the ground, emitting a strange violet light.
Feeling a little intrigued, he gets up to investigate. However, before he could properly make his way to the hole, the entire world started rumbling violently. The hole, which was only the size of a tennis ball, started to expand rapidly in all directions.
Seeing the hole suddenly expand alongside the powerful earthquake made his heart rate spike. His lungs took in deep breaths while every nerve in his body told him to run away. Claude, being a man with excellent motor skills, alongside a strong desire to live, complies. He musters up his strength and runs as fast as he can away from the ever-expanding hole that consumed everything that came across it.
Buildings start to shake and wiggle while glass cracks and shatters to the ground. The trees fall, and the people scream in panic and confusion. Then, just as everything looked to get worse, it all suddenly stopped. The ground calms down, and the hole stops expanding, stopping only a few inches away from Claude's feet.
Claude, after moving away from the hole to safety, took some time to regain his breath. Now that he was safe, all his brain could ask was just one question: What the hell had just happened?