Hopex

The Tide was what they called the mass suicide. Three thousand people, hand in hand, walking into the Veridia River while singing a children’s lullaby. They’d been smiling. That was the part the broadcasts never stopped replaying. Smiling.

Logan didn’t look up from the disassembled unicorn on his workbench. “Repairs are twenty creds. Pickup Thursday.” The Tide was what they called the mass suicide

“Before he walked into the Tide.”