"Some claim to see raindrops falling into our unblinking eyes." -Scott Alexander Jones, from OneDayThereWillBeNothingToShowThatWeWereEverHere

Rights

Martin decides to go to the town square, for a casual walk and conversation with a local, or something like that. He walks up his street, takes a left, walks down that street, takes a right, and stands in front of a tall office building. Excuse me, but isn’t this where the town square once was he says to a passer-by. It moved just now, here are the new directions to the town square the passer-by says, firmly scrawling directions on Martin’s hand with a permanent marker. Martin follows the directions to a “t,” walking further up the street, turning right, walking straight on that street for a few blocks, then turning right again. The sun seems to have disappeared from the sky, leaving a blank canvas of blue overhead. There are no clouds. Martin stands in front of another office building, this one a few stories smaller. Where is this town square he says out loud. A passer-by overhears him say this. Oh, it’s moved again. The new town square is a few miles from here. Here, let me show you the passer-by says, taking a knife and carving out directions into Martin’s chest, upright so that he can look down and see them properly, right side up. Martin feels faint, and notices that the sky has grown a paler shade of blue, almost a blue gray. He stumbles a bit as he follows these new directions, growing hungry and thirsty. The buildings are getting smaller and smaller, or that’s how they seem. Maybe these are the outskirts of the town that he’s heard of. He stands in front of a small convenience store, and considers saying something about the town square, but notices all the passers-by watching him, holding guns and swords and axes, seemingly waiting for him to utter some word. The sky had turned into a dark shade of gray, and was getting grayer. The light it made took the color from everyone, making them look pale and lifeless. As the world slowly fades away, and the hopeless, murderous masses arm themselves, Martin sits down on the curb, and thinks about how lifeless things outside the town square are.