00:00The old radio was a flea market find, a dusty relic with a warm, analog hum.
00:06It mostly pulled in static, but late at night a voice would sometimes cut through.
00:11A calm, measured voice, reading the news.
00:16The strange part? It was always tomorrow's news.
00:20A minor traffic jam on the interstate, a surprise rain shower at noon,
00:25the final score of a baseball game. Small things.
00:30I started taking notes. A little game to see if it was right. It always was.
00:36Last night, the voice was different. It trembled.
00:40It announced a breaking story for tomorrow evening. My street. My house number.
00:46It described the police tape, the silent onlookers, and then...
00:51It read my name.
00:54Not as a victim, but as a person of interest, who had vanished without a trace.
00:58The broadcast ended with a single, chilling question.
01:02Where could they have gone?
01:05Now I'm sitting here in the dark, listening to the static, and I swear.
01:10I can hear sirens in the distance. They're a day early.
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