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trailed off and shook his head. He just couldn't understand Sarah's father and never had. Ten years he had been with Sarah and from the first day he had met her father it had been a constant battle to be accepted by him. Mark glanced down at his hands, at his dark coloured skin. He had experienced racism all his life but Sarah's father was the worst because he had turned his back on his own daughter for daring to have a relationship with a black man. Mark's own family were scattered across all the corners of the globe and he had no idea where they were because he'd been adopted as a baby. Meeting Sarah had been like coming home. Sarah's mother had died giving birth to her and her father had raised her by himself. He was a bitter, lonely old man and in some ways Mark felt sorry for him.

"Come on," he said, suddenly.

Now, he thought was the time to forgive and put the past behind them because soon there would be no future.
"You're right," Sarah said, as if she'd read his mind. "I have to see him."
They made their way down the hillside and into town. It was teeming with people. Mark clutched Sarah's hand as people barged past them, carrying items in their hands. He looked at their faces and saw blind panic. A lot of people hadn't believed that the end was coming and now faced with the cold harsh facts they'd resorted to raw emotions. Mark knew how they felt. He had experienced those same emotions, the sick hollow dread, the panic and the feeling that he was suffocating, drowning in fear and regret. This was written all over the faces of everyone now as they ran about screaming, crying, shouting. Mark didn't know where they were running to because there was nowhere to go, no escape.
"Oh god, Mark" He heard Sarah say.
He looked to where she was pointing. In the sky. The ball of fire was close. There was little time. It felt as if time had suddenly escalated, that it was folding in on itself, growing smaller and smaller.
Sarah placed a hand to her heart as if to reassure herself that it was still beating. Mark grabbed her other hand and dragged her through the crowds. Her father's shop and flat was just ahead of them. Through the people he could see that the windows were all smashed in, looters pulling stuff off the display shelves.
"I should have come to see him sooner," Sarah said, her voice breathless.
"He wouldn't see you, Its not your fault," Mark said.
"I hope he's still here," Sarah gasped. "What if he's gone?"
Mark pulled Sarah along the side of the shop towards

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