The Day The World Fell Apart

In Carl’s cluttered office, I faced his smug expression. “Quite the vernacular, Debbie,” he said, eyes on his papers.

“Screw you, Carl. Are you even listening?” I snapped, frustration boiling over.

He leaned back in his chair. “Sinkholes happen, Debbie. We analyze, not dramatize.”

I leaned in, my voice low and steady. “But this one’s different, Carl.”

He looked up, skepticism in his eyes. “Different how?”

“Something. crawled. out. of. it.”