He stopped to dig the pen from behind his ear. He wrote in the margins of that age-old book these words: The Wheel is broken.
Yes–yes, that was the center, the thesis, the seed. If the structure which they had created, if the rules and systems which guided Jalseion, if the testament to intellect and ingenuity of the brightest minds shattered, that would be very near what he meant to write, what the dream sang.
The Wheel is broken.
In one day, the great city of Jalseion is broken. In 10 flash fictions, glimpse how its people–from the homeless beggar to the city’s Overseer–deal with the catastrophe and its consequences.
This is a companion piece to The Select’s Bodyguard.