Manhattan was ravaged by a catastrophic flood of epic proportions. The city was almost completely submerged, which made it vulnerable to an oceanic invasion: an attack by a giant squid, red and black and bulbous, tentacles nearly as long as the Empire State Building. The few remaining survivors raced from deserted apartment to deserted apartment scavaging for something among putrid ababdoned refrigerators. Then, just as a scientist was starting to explain why we desperately needed more broccoli salad, I woke up.

I think my brain is tired.

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