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It’s the summer, and you’re out of your college classes for at least a week or two, before the next semester starts. You’ve spent this time lounging around, and sleeping a lot. But lately, correspondence between your local friends has dropped off. They don’t drop by. Your phone’s been quiet for awhile, and your IM lists are all empty.
After five days of this, you’ve gotten bored enough to try chatrooms. They’re all empty; even the big ones. Any e-mails you send get no replies.
When you leave your apartment, the whole of the building is unearthly silent. The only noise that comes about at all is the whurr from the automated Rail outside. Nobody answers when you knock. All the buildings are dark and locked up when you look out the window; the only cars are of the parked variety.
A search of the entire building, and even further beyond that, yeilds nothing. No life; the only movement is from the wind, or the automated peices of machinary. Defeated, you slink back into the empty apartment complex.
On your door is pinned a note:
“Turns out the guy in room 302 really could sleep through the end of the world.”
The note is dated five days ago.