Resolution

We'd all heard about them before, of course, but they always seemed to be so far away. There were rumours and rumblings, but nothing that seemed close, pressing. Nothing that seemed...real. It didn't happen to anybody we knew and we ignored the warnings on the television because we stopped believing it told us anything close to the truth years ago. But we were fools, fools not to believe it, and when it came for us, we weren't prepared and all we could do was run, as fast and as far away as we could. We didn't look back until we reached the water - the edge of everything, or so we believed - and there it was, rolling out along the horizon like smoke but with the thick, heavy consistency of tar. Someone somewhere, God Allah Shiva Whoever, had finally decided that we had been a bad idea after all and pushed the button and so begun the system to refresh, reset, renew. Begin again begin again begin again. We were being wiped out. 

I wondered what it would be like to be crushed beneath the restart; at first to feel the coldness of it, the coldness of the fabled grave none of us had yet known but would know now, and then the stickiness, the weight, the collapse. It had been preached that this life, this world, this, our bodies, the air we breathe, wasn't real and never had been, but that storm looked real enough to me. I vowed I would never look back again - and I went forward into the water. Onwards.

That, ladies and gentlemen, was a spur-of-the-moment dramatisation of a rolling restart. I was minding my own business in my new skybox when my screen began to shake and I got the warning that my region would be restarting and Kitti would be logged out if I didn't move regions (like a group of sims). Not knowing exactly which regions were involved in the restart and where the borders for such things lie, I ran to the most remote place I could see in my landmark list and ended up in the sea. Cue drama.

It was more difficult than you can imagine not to make a "Rolling in the Deep" reference.