A New Normal

Dr. Aris Thorne found himself staring at a perfectly preserved *Archaeopteryx* fossil, a sight that, just weeks ago, had been the highlight of his entire existence. Now, it felt… anticlimactic. He ran a gloved finger over the delicate imprint of ancient feathers, a faint smile playing on his lips. The silence of the museum was a balm after the deafening roars, the screeching tires, and Rexy’s even more deafening pronouncements. He’d always found solace in the quiet, dusty halls, a sanctuary from the messy, unpredictable chaos of the living. And oh, had the living been chaotic.

He’d managed to wrangle his way back into his beloved museum, a feat involving a surprisingly persuasive argument about the irreplaceable nature of the collection and a sternly worded letter to a government official who was, thankfully, more concerned with the reappearance of Pterodactyls than the eccentric paleontologist. The dinosaurs were gone, vanished as suddenly as they had arrived, leaving behind only bewildered citizens, a smattering of half-eaten cars, and a lingering scent of something vaguely reptilian. And, of course, the odd jobs.

He’d heard whispers. A velociraptor, surprisingly adept with a latte machine, had apparently opened a small coffee stand downtown. Another had been spotted meticulously organizing a bookstore, its tiny, sharp claws surprisingly gentle with the delicate pages. Aris shuddered. He preferred his velociraptors extinct, not employed.