Stuck - part 1
They were stopping, kaput. Not dead, just stuck. Everywhere. No one knew why. It didn't matter what it looked like, or what anyone said - all the big ideas didn't change the fact that heaps of people had run out of whatever it was that had made them go. The only certainty was the mess it made for the rest of us. "Why Papa?" "I don't know. Maybe they ran out of Wednesdays." "Maybe they ran out of this way's and that way's!" Broken people clotted the avenues in Midtown, shut down the tunnels and bridges, brought Chinatown to a heaping, shrieking standstill. Glassy eyed children, pink-toothed, bubble-lipped, some alone, others hands clasped loosely to vacant eyed parents, burbled mid-stride under traffic lights that had also become static. "Can I have his yoyo?" "Don't even think about it." ...