A history of a mean and ugly time.
Meredith is born. She explodes!
It is 1978. The sun is bright.
The monster looks surprised.
Not everyone explodes a few seconds after they’re born. Most people start out as babies. Babies are amazingly non-explosive. Even when you activate them using a nipple they remain inert, constraining their endless trillions of kilojoules within their adorable mass.
Even people who do not start as babies do not always explode. Gods tend to appear full-grown. Goats start out as kids, and Dick Cheney was actually born older than he is now. Some universal figures exist without beginning or end, such as God or Ouroborous. In addition there are suspicions regarding the people of Kansas who may in fact hatch out of great clutches of tornado eggs.
But Meredith has exploded; so, “That was quick,” the monster says.
“She lasted longer in GMT,” Jenna says.
There’s a pause.
“‘Cause it’s later there. In Greniggs!”
“No,” says the monster. “No, it’s not.”
He wipes off his face. He walks away. He leaves her there, and slowly Jenna’s head falls forward and her eyes flutter shut.
“PST sucks,” she says.
She dreams of Greenwich, where everything happens much later and in a stately fashion, where strange European people eat their midnight snacks at four, and where partings take eight hours at a time.