Anthony, Jon and I were playing videogames when we felt and heard what seemed like the world's biggest dumptruck was driving through a Crate and Barrel next door. Being used to heavy traffic, having grown up in DC, I continued watching the game. That was until the entire apartment building began to slightly sway. Then I realized it was actually an earthquake.
Jon had recently been in a motorcycle accident and has since been recovering from a broken shoulder, a fractured wrist, bruised ribs, and some seriously beat-up legs.
Bravely, I shoved him aside, considering him as a necessary sacrifice to the earthquake gods. He's an invalid anyways and would have only slowed down Anthony's, and more importantly, MY, escape.
Luckily, however, Jon managed to make his way down the flight of stairs. I reminded both of them not to use the elevator, because A: it would be unsafe, and also B: we don't have an elevator.
By the time we reached the street I expected us to be the only survivors. But miraculously it seems no one at all, in all of California, was harmed. Thanks to me.
But what, just what could have been the cause of all this destruction?
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