File: Shelter.zip ... Here

The progress bar didn’t move in percentages; it moved in years.

The room around me began to pixelate at the edges. My bookshelf blurred into a smear of brown and white; the smell of rain—actual, ozone-heavy rain—started to leak from my cooling fans. File: Shelter.zip ...

Shelter.zip wasn't a file. It was an evacuation. And as the "Estimated Time Remaining" dropped to zero, I realized I wasn't sitting in front of a computer anymore. The progress bar didn’t move in percentages; it