P. Djeli Clark

She sighed. Two months in, and 2030 was turning out to be as dismal as 2029.

“More than that, from what I’m hearing. That same doctor say the CDC started getting the first White cases a few months back. But they hushing it up. Don’t want to cause a panic. This thing here, gonna be big—you watch!”
“Maybe then they’ll start trying to fix it,” Annabeth said.
Hattie laughed darkly. “Ain’t we always the canaries?”

Annabeth walked forward, squinting to read the words on the blackboard. It looked like gibberish. No punctuation. Just a long stream of thought—like his mind was leaking out.