The weather. Tomorrow, expect a... Biting cold front. Mmm, how naughty. I wonder what I'll be wearing or taking off. The night will be wild and untamed. Expect heavy, lashing rain that'll soak you to the skin. By Monday, temperatures will rise, slowly but surely, reaching their peak in the afternoon.

Not in the mood for miserable weather?

Fly cheaply to Turkey with Sun Express.

Sun Express, non-stop sunshine.

Night four.

Station feels wrong in a way I can't articulate. The fluorescent lights hum at a frequency that makes my teeth ache.

Coffee tastes like copper.

When I walked in from my shift, Morrison looked up from his desk, smiled.

Went back to his paperwork without saying a word.

Not unusual except Morrison always asks about the weather, always.

For three years, every single shift.

How's it looking out there, Harper?

Today.

Nothing. Dale's at his desk typing with mechanical precision.

His posture is too straight, his movements too measured.

I tried to talk to him when I came in asking if you wanted to grab lunch later.

You looked at me with eyes that didn't quite focus and said,

I don't know you.

Then he went back to typing.

Edict's constant now.

Thick pulsing pressure behind my eyes that makes the edges of my vision blur.

When I blink, sometimes see after images of things that aren't there.

...