The West Coast Killer
I had a cousin who lived out in Los Angeles back in the early 2030s. It was nuts back then. She used to tell me stories — the parties in the hills, getting to mingle with celebs and the like, it was high time for so many folks. They’d just gotten over that crazy pandemic and she was an executive on the come up. The music and film/television industries were booming. I remember the blockbusters coming out of that liberal factory. Yeah, sure, okay, I may not have agreed with the state…as it were…I always called it the “ass” of America. But, yeah, I consumed what they put out like everyone else. And I guess I felt all good about it because my cousin was out there making it and I could kinda use her for clout.
Then, one day. I can’t even…believe it still…the ground straight opened up. Literally tore open with an off the chart quake, shook Los Angeles down to nothing but ruins in a matter of minutes. I mean, how could something THAT BIG come down. It was so bad the US government didn’t even try to fix it. They never found so many people…and I never saw or heard from my cousin again. Really messed up stuff. She just wanted to be an entertainment exec and hated where we’re from. Cynque’s been saying there’s plenty of folks that never quite made it home. So I figure even though it’s been five years maybe she’s out there. Somewhere. Trying to survive, at least. All we can hope for.
Too bad that earthquake knocked the whole U.S. outta whack. Nothing was ever the same after the West Coast killer.
Nothing.
signed, still shook.
