Like the sun itself has been Sequestered.
I listen…there is something odd. Then it hits me. No birds sing to greet the morning. I think, “They must have been Sequestered too.”
I step out of my home and the cold, bitter air of the Sequester hits me. A cold shiver runs down my spine as I close my coat tighter against the raging Sequesterian wind….
I get on the road. Traffic is light, lighter than it’s been all week. How many people has the Sequester gotten to to make the streets so empty? What just yesterday was break lights as far as the eye could see had become cleared intersections with beckoning green lights baiting me to drive on into the Sequester. I obliged, pausing only briefly to stop for a school bus. The school bus stops, but no children get on.