By Mark L. S. Stone
The president addressed his people, eyes heavy with despair.
“We cannot fight this foe. Our cities and our civilization will be destroyed. Some individuals will survive. Our only hope is that that they will be able to rebuild...”
• • •
“You’ve got a whole bacteria San Francisco in here.” the dentist said, pulling another red mass of pus and blood out from under a tooth. “And you know what this is?”
I made a noise that was supposed to be “L.A.?”
“This is a bacteria California.” He wiped his instrument clean. “You’re going to have to come back next week.”