The suits milled about, oddly calm, the rumbling sounds of thunder and a mild tremor underfoot creating only a low murmur of concerned voices. The bank of windows, darkened by night and driving rain lit up with intermittent streaks of lightning casting erratic, jerking shadows across the floor.
As pairs began to form, a ladder carrier with a rope holder, and the suits streamed up to the roof for rescue, I began to panic. Every pairing seemed to come together slightly faster than I could move. Every suit made it out of the now crumbling building but me. I died.
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