What if the world finally gave you what you always wanted?complete silence?
John Michaels, a quiet and overlooked waiter with a passion for books, makes a wish in the solitude of a walk-in cooler: I wish everyone would just disappear. When he steps outside, the world has answered. Streets are empty. Cities are silent. Humanity is gone.
At first, it's paradise. No noise. No responsibilities. Just time to read, think, and finally write the novel he always dreamed of. But as the days stretch into weeks and months, the peace he once craved begins to rot. Food spoils. Power fails. The silence grows heavy?and then unbearable.
Driven to the edge of madness, John clings to his manuscript like a lifeline. But when he finishes his masterpiece, a devastating truth sets in: there's no one left to read it.
Now he must face the ultimate question?was solitude what he truly wanted, or has the cost of silence been too high?
Autorentext
Michael Slabicki crafts fiction with the precision of a poet and the soul of a witness?drawing from a life shaped by geography, movement, and deep human observation. Born in upstate New York and raised across the United States as the son of a military family, he absorbed the quiet rhythms of small towns, the solitude of northern woods, the weight of southern skies, and the intimacy of place. Now rooted in South Carolina, his stories bear the layered textures of every landscape he's called home.
His work defies formula, yet always returns to the core of what makes a story matter: people. With emotional honesty and immersive detail, Michael writes characters who are flawed but faithful, weary but still reaching?individuals whose journeys echo the reader's own. Whether unfolding through a slow-burning romance, a quiet redemption, or a deep spiritual reckoning, his narratives feel lived-in and quietly revelatory.
Slabicki's prose is unhurried but relentless, inviting readers not only to feel, but to reflect?to linger in moments that most writers rush past. He doesn't just tell stories. He builds lives, moment by moment, with a rare steadiness and conviction that is felt long after the final page.