Thank fucking God that the record player wasn't affected like the phone.
It was some form of terrorist attack? AI advancement? An error in the development? I wasn't really sure what it was, but it had to be man-made. The virus would affect those who had their phone's close to their ears. It would then transmit some form of signal, and they would start going haywire, like a dog getting rabies.
I was in the record store, and saw the player standing by while the many records in their sleeves caught my eye. I wasn't sure what I wanted to play, so I blindly chose. When I pulled it out, it had been Frank Sinatra's You Make Me Feel So Young. When I played it, it was a relaxing sound, and I lied on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.
If it weren't for this record, I think I would've shot myself in the head with the Glock I got from the police station by now. I had been alone ever since it started, and I feel like the record was the only thing that was right by my side.
YOU ARE READING
The First Steps: Volume I
Historia CortaFirst drafts of short fiction that I want to put out. Note that these are first drats, something that was written on the go with little planning.
