[ WP ] Imagine a city where everything is perfect , the food , the people , the weather ... But everyday one person disappears and his name appears in the newspapers

`` Who went missing dear?'' My wife asked casually from across the counter. 
 
 `` Let's see... Ted Reid, 24, fitness coach.'' I read off the small box of text under the obituary. 
 
 It was like reading about the weather. And it was exactly the same conversation my father and mother had, and probably theirs before. 
 
 People died, people disappeared. It was normal in this city. 
 
 `` I wonder if dead people disappear too.'' I thought out loud. 
 
 `` But isnt that what dead people do, disappear?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, but I mean like these disappearances. And I dont think dead people technically disappear.'' 
 
 My wife just shrugged and went off to get dressed. I stepped out for a quick cigarette myself. 
 
 The streets were rather quite. Given, it was 7 in the morning. Lights were on in a few houses, bringing the morn before the sun into their cozy spaces. 
 
 As I drew my last smoke, I felt a gentle breeze sweeping the neighborhood. I stared emptily into the air, watching the exhaled smoke trail off like unspoken words, when something smacked my face and quickly blot out the light from my sight. 
 
 I cussed as I snatched the object. It was a sheet of paper. In fact, it was a piece of newspaper. I skimmed the pages despite just having read one. Most boxes were blank. And then I saw it. 
 
 Under the box titled obituary, there was the disappearance notice. And on it, was my name. 
 
'John Freidberg' 
 
'The fuck?' I thought to myself. I quickly examined the piece, trying to make out if this was a sick joke or not. I looked around frantically, looking for some sign of a hidden camera or a prank squad. 
 
 I examined the newspaper again. And then I noticed the date. It was tomorrow. 
 
'No way. This is not real, it's a joke.' 
 
 I crumpled the piece, slammed it into the bin by the street, and went back in. 
 
 God knows I tried to live my life as normally as possible. But what I had seen lingered in my mind and began to fester pretty quick. 
 
 No one knew or ever heard of how these disappearances happen, let alone when they disappear. As the day passed, I began to grow more anxious. 
 
 Would it happen at midnight? Or the strike of three? Would it ACTUALLY happen? It cant be true right? Newspapers are printed and packed right at the press, there's no way one single sheet could've escaped right? 
 
 What if it IS real? I mean... it probably, no definitely isnt, but what if it is? I'd like to wake up to my wife one last time though..would I be given that chance? 
 
 How would I disappear? Do I simply cease to exist? 
 
 I tried not to scare my wife, although she had caught sense that something was wrong the moment she saw my face after work. 
 
 I did all that I could to get my mind off the looming doom. I just grabbed my wife, and we lost ourselves in the grandeur of the city. The fanciest restaurant, a romantic park, we did it all. My wife was somewhat taken aback but nonetheless enjoyed herself. 
 
 I, despite trying so hard to convince myself that tomorrow was going to come, found myself straining to leave a good final moment with my wife. I wanted her to remember me, not simply erase me from memory. It was truly heart wrenching. 
 
 When we got home, we made the most passionate love we had in the longest time, even more passionate then our honeymoon. 
 
 As I laid there, the clock showing 11.45pm, and my wife sleeping soundly next to me, I could almost feel each second passing. Each fleeting moment. 
 
 My vision began to blur. Tears swelled in my eyes and I bit on the blankets to muffle the cry. 
 
 I do not want to disappear. I want to exist. 
 
 11.59pm 
 
 What would happen? 
 
 12.00am 
 

