The World as he Knew it.

The year is 2032. It is the day of the 10th annual balloon festival in Barcelona, Spain. An old man sits in an alley, out of sight. He is tired, so very tired. He strokes his long grey beard and taps his dusty leather shoes. He hears the advertisements of street vendors and the laughter of children. The sounds of the balloons remind him of his past.

He is waiting in a line. Tattered American flags, covered in bullet holes, hang from giant poles. Marines try to comfort crying families while gunshots boom in the distance. He is boarding a plane. He takes his seat and looks out the window, just as a Russian bomber drops it's load and nuclear fallout spreads across the country. The world, as he knew it, was dead.

The old man leaves the ally and enjoys the balloon festival.

Bloody Sunglasses

An old nespaper sits on top of an old clock tower. It is the New York Times, dated November 22nd, 2042, ten years old. A man stands in the tower. only the shape of his nose and eyes can be seen under his black stealth suit. He stares at his watch. Tick-tock, tick-tock. A rifle lies on the floor. Tick-tock, tick-tock. The assassin picks up his rifle. A silver speck can be seen on the horizon. As it comes closer, it is clear what it is. A hoverjet, engines roaring as it switches from flight to hover. It slowly descends. Miles away, the assassin looks through his scope, he can see everything. Five men step out of the aircraft. Heavily armored, each with assault laser rifles. They look around and then beckon to the jet. Another man steps out. He wears a deep black tuxedo, as black as the assassin's suit. His blonde hair is spiked and his eyes covered with sunglasses. The armored men form a protective huddle around him. The assassin looks down his scope. Tick-tock, tick-tock. The clock tower's hands reach the top and releases a powerful Bong. Blood covered sunglasses fall to the ground and shatter.