Life as a newly-wed was great. Wen and I had been married for less than a month and we were already living in our fantastic second-floor, two-bedroom apartment, with a back patio no less. And pop open the champagne because the results were in. Yes, she was pregnant! Life was good and all was calm with the world. I was now Mr. Puffed-Up Chest who was ready to take on the world. I would do anything to protect my home and family.
All these thoughts ran through my thirty-year old mind as I laid there next to my future. I glanced at the clock and it was 6:15 am on a Friday morning. Wen was off work today and I was not due in until 3 pm. I hugged my wife from behind and drifted back into slumber-land.
Little did I know, there were events going on underground, about 250 miles to the north, in Blue Mountain, New York, that would spoil my beauty nap. It seems that a 5.3 earthquake was about to start there, which would involve two provinces in Canada and twelve states in the USA. Not to mention little old Bronx, New York.
At 6:19 am, it began as a slight rumbling which was shaking the bed just enough to wake me up. I felt as if I were standing on the subway platform and a train was passing through but no worse. A few seconds later, the bed was moving from side to side really hard and there was a far away noise which sounded much louder than the number 5 IRT express.
Some may say that I bolted back into the bed out of fear. I say that I carefully calculated the odds and proceeded to save the life of my new wife, my unborn child and also the entire city of New York. At least that's the way I'd like to remember it.
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