My Cardboard Balcony

Carrington by Belinda Roddie All of the power went out - grid exploding with sparks, tongues of flame - except in one city. One. A remote little place with two diners, a general store, and one coffee shop. The rest? Trees and buried houses among greenery, with the rare telephone poles to bring them light. They need to arm themselves, draw curtains, erect iron fences. Because the panic will rise in insectile swarms, and Carrington will scream from his telescope.

"Excuse me," asked the man with the large, misshapen nose. "Could you tell me who the distributor of these DVDs are?" I blinked. "Um...the same guys who saw to the production of the movies?" He was staring at me quite intently now, perusing my blue polo shirt and my khaki pants. He pursed his lips and his bulbous snout twitched. "So nothing has been pirated?" he demanded. "Why on earth would a corporation like us carry pirated goods?" I asked.