two. a short one.

She waited. There was a little time left.

She had been waiting for three hours already, far longer than the reactor was able to hold up, but she waited still.

You're late, she remembered telling him on their first date. He apologized on his knees, drawing the attention of everyone at the theater. She blushed and ran out the door. He caught up with her. He always did.

She waited some more. Four hours. Four and a half. The noise was getting louder. She could feel her skin drying up. She was thirsty. Not a good sign.

Thirty more minutes, she thought. He never let me wait more than five hours. Well, once maybe. But that was an emergency.

Somewhere in the building, a pipe burst. She could feel the explosion in her knees.

Fifteen minutes. She couldn't feel the lever any more. She couldn't feel her hand.

Ten minutes.

I'm sorry, she said. Her mouth wouldn't move.

Five minutes, she thought. Just five minutes.

She felt the floor hit her head.

She waited.