"Hello," said the small, hirsute man who had appeared unexpectedly on the television screen. "I'm broadcasting this to apologize to as many people as possible. I swear I intended only to benefit humanity, to free us from the constraints of time and space." He sighed, and something behind him flared into eerie blue radiance. He hunched over, his brow thickening, dark hair sprouting on his face. "Now it's too late," he said, as the street sounds, the roar of engines and electricity, began to fade, "or maybe too early."
The television crumbled away.
Outside, the jungle was starting to grow.
Concrete Angel is a Finely Carved Debut
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