After Jon left his house and ran out onto his front lawn, he stopped and stared at the sky. In every direction was what could only be described as a translucent flashing ribbon of blackness. It must have been the border separating the two time zones. In town, it was December. Outside of town, it was April.
Then another quake hit, this one even more destructive than the last. The house directly across from his (Mrs. Wilson, an elderly woman, lived there) suddenly dropped into the ground, as a giant hole formed just beneath it. Jon stared in shock as he watched the entire house get swallowed up, leaving nothing on the property except for the Christmas light-covered trees and bushes.
Was it really worth it to know where his grandfather was? If he hadn't made that wish, none of this would be happening.
"Santa! Where are you?!" Jon yelled at the top of his lungs. "I thought you said you were going to fix this!"
Then there was another quake. This one caused a giant crack to form in the middle of the street. It ran down the length of it, causing cars that were parked along the street to lose their footing and fall in.
Jon looked around in dismay at his neighborhood. How many houses had been destroyed? How many cars had been wrecked? How many people had gotten hurt ... or even died? All because he wanted to see his grandfather at least one more time.
