Love at the End of the World
The apocalypse wasn’t so bad, really.
Surveilled
On the sidewalk of the family housing area on the military base, two kids played catch in the cul-de-sac, their movements unnaturally synchronized, as though staged. A teenager threw a Frisbee to a robotic dog, which leapt into the air, twisting as it caught the toy’s plastic edge. Next door, a sprinkler sprayed the evenly cut grass, making rainbows in the air. Jack Wilburn admired the scene, the early afternoon so tranquil and balanced—almost eerily perfect.

