The screen buzzes softly

Electromagnetic hum

As a family they sit

Circled ’round and holding breath

“Citizen 9721366

You have been chosen”

Announcer’s microphone whines

The father’s face falls

Recognition dawning

He looks to his son

“Jacob… I…”

The boy looks up

Worry stitching his brow

“Dad?

Isn’t that my number?”

The family embraces and weeps

As the screen returns to fuzz

A dome of light

Encircling grief