found in Drafts, unsure if ever posted or completed:

I see a man who looks like you from the back and the bus I’m standing in explodes.

Great swathes of metal are unfurling, are throwing themselves down Lake Shore Drive and sparking into nothing. The dead bodies of strangers pile all around me.

All the water in the air vanishes at once, and the breeze is on my hands on the Natchez Trace.