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The world is not just stuff.

Minus 111.9.

The widely publicized mystery of the flying saucers may soon be solved.

Steve sat slowly up from his bed and kicked his legs off the side.

It was still dark out, but he couldn't sleep.

The year was weighing on him too much for rest and it was only April.

He sat on the side of the bed, head bowed low, and elbows resting on his knees, thinking.

In the adjacent room slept his two sons, soundly and without

any understanding of the darkness they were poised to enter. Across the narrow hall of the little

house, Steve's daughter lay in her own room. She, though she was not yet old enough to pinpoint

why, also could not sleep. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling, counting all the

faces she could force herself to see in the popcorn. Finally, Steve stood up and walked quietly

to the kitchen. It was the day after they'd moved into their new home. Despite the starro's

still being so fresh, he really did believe that the move was already helping somehow.

That would soon change.

Stephen LaChance and his three kids, just the week prior, suffered the confusing and terrible blow

of watching the love of all their respective lives, Steve's wife and the children's mom,

just leave them on a whim.

She left and she was never coming back. She gave no reason.

...