We called it Rapture for the way their frozen faces were trapped in a mixture of fear and ellation, like they'd seen Heaven and were horrified by it. Their bodies were covered in a thick layer of translucent ice as if they'd been caught like flies in amber while the rest of the city floated alongside them in the arctic-cold sea.
We used these ruins like stepping stones, jumping from broken skyscraper to mangled car until we reached something resembling enough of a stable platform that we could camp there for a while. Resting for too long was as much of a death sentence as falling into the water. The currents were harsh enough to create miniature whirlpools when too many buildings got caught up on each other, gradually increasing until the whole mess got sucked down into voidal dark.
Our end goal was land - even a frozen wasteland would feel safer than laying on glass and watching the Raptured blocks of people drifting through unseen slipstreams, down and down until they merged with the nothingness of the sea.
Once we used to fish in the waters between the floating ruins. We stopped after we kept catching frozen body parts. It wasn't that we were catching corpses, it was the laughter coming from just beneath the surface that frightened us. Something was joking at our expense, something strong enough to break through the ice that had all the people trapped.
Occasionally we'll catch a glimpse of it, dark as the sea and in possession of too many limbs.
We used these ruins like stepping stones, jumping from broken skyscraper to mangled car until we reached something resembling enough of a stable platform that we could camp there for a while. Resting for too long was as much of a death sentence as falling into the water. The currents were harsh enough to create miniature whirlpools when too many buildings got caught up on each other, gradually increasing until the whole mess got sucked down into voidal dark.
Our end goal was land - even a frozen wasteland would feel safer than laying on glass and watching the Raptured blocks of people drifting through unseen slipstreams, down and down until they merged with the nothingness of the sea.
Once we used to fish in the waters between the floating ruins. We stopped after we kept catching frozen body parts. It wasn't that we were catching corpses, it was the laughter coming from just beneath the surface that frightened us. Something was joking at our expense, something strong enough to break through the ice that had all the people trapped.
Occasionally we'll catch a glimpse of it, dark as the sea and in possession of too many limbs.
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