There was an odd aura in the air, and even the old grouch Mrs. Meow noticed. In fact, she was the first to get out of her house and take a heaving gulp of oxygen. She was the last to leave.

The next day sirens blared on the shores, and minutes later the beach homes built in the sand were torn apart with whitewater and swept away with a single agile move. I had finished my work for that day and tapping my fingers on the wheel as my favorite song came on, when the breaking news of the breaking wave came.

These turn of events haven't frightened me; nobody had been killed nor injured on the shores. It was 2119, and emergency alerts were as normal as having dinner. It didn't seem likely that I have to run for my life, reevaluate everything I had done and make a dash for it. No; I was just like the others, normal and proud.

And oh did I wish to listen to Mrs. Meow.