Jay and Aisha leaned forwards, staring at the flickering television, its curved screen painting their faces with an unholy shimmer. Aisha placed one hand against the glass, feeling the tickle of static, perhaps hoping physical contact might bring back what they had seen.
They continued to stare at the buzz of black and whites blocks, like peering into an epileptic snowstorm. Their minds tried to draw out shapes, to spot patterns, but there was nothing more to be seen. The faces were gone. Had it been only a shared hallucination?
“Who do you think they were?” asked Jay. “Were they ghosts?”
Aisha shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s still someone else out there after all, someone still broadcasting.”
The two children drew a little closer to one another, shivering in the shadows of the world that had been.
Title image courtesy restlessglobetrotter