Mute Boy slept through the end of the world. When he awoke, there was only the tile floor of his bedroom, with his bed on it, and him on the bed. The walls, the ceiling, and the rest of the world had been replaced by black and purple sky. Mute Boy would have screamed and cried if he could. An onlooker, if there were one, might have mistaken his silence for indifference. I knew Mute Boy, and I assure you he was stunned.
William Hoffacker / About Author
William Hoffacker is the Co-Editor-in-Chief of Cartridge Lit, an online literary journal dedicated to poetry and prose inspired by video games. His work has appeared in Atticus Review, NANO Fiction, The Matador Review, and others. More info is at williamhoffacker.com.