Maggie mopped up the last of her soup with another bread roll while her friends bickered over the bill. She could’ve paid all of it, but she found out early on that it wasn’t good to be with friends eager to let her pay for everything. 

“Guys, it’s getting late,” she said. She looked out the setting sky through the wide, clear windows of the cafe. The clouds spread across the horizon like bundles of hay, heavy and low. It might rain too, and she wasn’t in the mood for biking home on the slick country roads. 

“Relax, Maggie. We’re in Dunburg,” Cassie said. “Nothing ever happens here, good or bad.” 

It sounded like a taunt towards fate. It was true that nothing of interest had ever happened in Dunberg before, but there was always a first time. People always thought there were no crimes in sleepy little towns. It was just that crimes weren’t solved in such places. They often weren’t even discovered. 

“You know how my mom is about curfews,” Maggie said. It was a lie. The curfew was her own because she never felt safe in the dark. It didn’t matter that they were in Dunburg, where being the sheriff was the easiest job in town. It didn’t matter that she knew every person by name within town limits, and even the few stragglers who lived in the nearby forest. 

“We’re gonna be leaving for college in a few months. She could lighten up a little,” Kevin said.

Maggie didn’t even want to wait a few months. She wanted to get in a car and drive away from Dunburg forever. She wanted the little town to be a place relegated to holidays and visits to her parents. Dunburg was a snow globe of a town, an isolated ecosystem where the rest of the world only contributed to the nightly news. 

She waited outside after they paid, tapping her feet on the cracked pavement. Her house was only a few minutes away, but she wanted to ride home with Cassie. Time alone with Cassie was hard to get. Precious, because their friend group moved like a flock. Wherever a couple went, the rest followed with fail. 

“Dude, you can go ahead without me,” Cassie said. If only Cassie felt the same way as her. 

Maggie shook her head. “I’ll wait if you want to hang around.”

Thirty minutes later, after Cassie’d had her fill of chatter and said her slow goodbyes, they got on their bikes and started riding. 

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to Big Sur with us?” Cassie asked.

Maggie knew what would happen if she went on their trip. She was the odd one out, the squeaky wheel, the part that didn’t quite fit in like the others. Cassie started to sing as the sun started to set. Cassie was an outsider like her too, but she had blended into Dunburg flawlessly. Other than the southern twang that edged her voice when she sang, there was nothing to distinguish her from the others in their group.

“It’s getting darker fast,” Cassie commented. She was right. The trees on either side of the road looked almost black to her eyes, their edges melting into the darkening sky. 

“We should hurry. As for Big Sur, I don’t think I’m up for a vacation now,” Maggie said. She didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted to leave, but not with the Dunburg people. Her wanderlust was directionless and fervent, not something that would be satiated by a weekend away from home.

“You always say no,” Cassie commented. “And I know your parents don’t have a problem with it, either. Your mom’s always annoying mine about inviting you to parties. She thinks we’re isolating you, not the other way around.”

Maggie laughed. It was true that Cassie and the others were more than tolerant of her prickly personality. She knew she wasn’t fun to be around. She wasn’t unpleasant, but she simply existed on their sidelines. She preferred it that way. 

“I’m not a people person,” Maggie said. She was a person kind of person. She preferred company in small controlled doses. Anything more was a headache. 

“I know, but we’re Maggie people,” Cassie said. Her tone was lighthearted, and Maggie knew she meant nothing. Cassie had an easy affection for most people she met, and it was easily reciprocated. 

“I’ll think about it,” Maggie lied.

“Hey, isn’t getting dark really quickly?” Cassie asked again. Maggie hadn’t noticed, but the sky was pitch black. She could see only the shadowy outlines of Cassie’s face. She started to pedal harder. 

“Hey!” Cassie called out. “I wasn’t saying we should rush. The stars are so pretty tonight!” 

Maggie didn’t care for the stars. There was too much unknown in the night sky. It was better during the day, when the sun obliterated the view of everything else out in the cosmos. At night, it was a bit harder to ignore the abyss above them. 

Especially when the abyss seemed to be getting closer. 

“The stars look so close tonight,” Cassie said, her voice a reverent whisper. She’d stopped her bike altogether and was looking up slackjawed. Maggie saw the same, but she saw where it didn’t add up. 

“Cassie! Run!” 

The sky was falling upon them, beautiful and terrible. The stars shattered as they made contact with the ground, and the facade fell as Cassie disappeared into the darkness of an inverted dome.