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Martha

Halfway through her sandwich, Liddy opens her mouth and starts to sing. Her mouth is full; Martha gets sprayed with chicken salad. She wipes her t-shirt and realizes that Liddy’s not singing a song, just holding out one note.

Somebody takes it up behind her. Martha stumbles up and the note populates the lunchyard. It’s starting to hurt her ears, and just then they find whatever note resonates inside cinderblocks, because the wall of the school collapses.

“Holy shit,” whispers Martha. All the singers have stopped. They’re looking the same direction. Their eyes are enormous, and black as piano keys.

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