The Blackout List

Some held children. Some held themselves. Some pressed their foreheads to the tile as if trying to bow toward the only cool surface left in the building. The nurse station phone had not stopped ringing. “East wing air is out.” “Backup generator on floor two won’t catch.” “We’ve got cars lined up outside. Heatstroke. We can’t bring them in fast enough.” Erin wiped sweat from her face and looked through the window at a sky that felt like white cloth pulled too tight over the world. Light bled through it in a way that made her eyes ache. It reminded her, unwillingly, of last year’s flood, when water had run through the stairwell and everyone had called it strange. Nobody used the word strange anymore. Strange had become routine.