Navigating the Global explores the transformation of boundaries from different angles. Write a narrative in which you evaluate the extent to which this is true.
Peter slammed his office door and ruptured another splinter on its face like the thousands that plagued it. His shaky hands fixed three locks across the door that jarred into their familiar cradles. He dragged his chair through the cracked grooves in the floorboards and collapsed into it with a sigh. The paperwork on his desk was minimal. It was the nightmare garden he tended to every night once the children were dreaming, and his wife curled against her own skin, embraced by icy cotton sheets. Better.
“Four, three?” he mumbled, tasting the numbers in his mouth. How much damage could three do? Would he even feel a tremble at three? He crouched down below his desk and pressed his ear against the ground, dug his nails into the floor and held his timid breath, but all he heard was the canned laughter of a sitcom on the television of the 6th floor. I think you need a teeny surreal image in this bit. “Four!”
He filed the sheet away and slid into an empty bed, only to be shaken awake by his wife two hours into the night. “Pete! Wake up!”
“Mel, the walls! Where are the children? What number this time?” “A three, the bed had only just begun to tremor.”
“How do you know? What did the news say? I graphed a four, how did this happen?” “I don’t understand… I woke you before it got worse, honey.” “What do you mean, that’s impossible? Go back to sleep.”
The morning light ripped through the windows of the seventh floor, and Peter woke up panting. All day at work he rushed and stammered, sweat soaked his clothing and his shirtsleeve was drenched from the constant sweep of his brow.
The instant computers, the four thousand buttons in the elevators, the looming skyscrapers and most of all the concerned try something else other than concerned people, reminded him that the world had...
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