Apocalyptic

Jamaal looked out the window of the helicopter that was the shambles of his adopted cities. There was the stadium, cracked, in need of repair. There was the old condo he lived in, the entire high rise collapsed. It bore no small resemblance to his personal life, he thought.

He'd gotten the divorce papers shortly after Elizabeth had returned to South Carolina. It was no surprise. He hadn't been there to rescue her before the building collapsed. He'd been in Mexico, fucking Rin. It'd been a poor choice in hindsight -- why not take them both, take the family, make a trip of it? It wasn't a money issue. And now he'd lost the trophy wife, though Rin, the Japanese beauty, was a consolation prize of considerable worth.

The north side of the city didn't look so bad, Jamaal thought. His mother lived up there, now shacked up with Henry, his birth father. If there was any silver lining, it is that his mother wasn't shacked up with that white boy anymore.

He sighed. "I've seen enough," he told the pilot. "Let's get back to the airfield and back to Vegas. I got a game to prepare for."