The wailing sound of the nuclear bomb siren drowned the music of Snow Patrol playing in my iPod. I hit the volume up to its maximum. Nothing can part me and my music.
From my seat outside the coffeshop, I saw a white ball of light coming from the horizon getting bigger and brighter. I sip from my coffee cup and lean back.
I felt my mobile phone vibrate on the pocket of my faded jeans. It was my father calling about a hundred times now. I see he also sent a hundred text messages. I don't care.
It was getting hotter on my seat outside so I stand up and walk to the air-conditioned inside of the cafe. I look around for a cozy spot. A sofa on the corner seems to be waiting for me. I walk to the sofa and just slumbered on the soft seat still with my coffee in hand.
I recline lazily and leaned my head back. I can see the ceiling and all the chandeliers. Everything starts to shake. The chandeliers began to dance--each bumping glasswork creating a loud shattering sound.
The shattered glass falls slowly like snow above me. The quakes became stronger and stronger. Bright lights began pouring through the windows.
Snow Patrol on my iPod. Coffee on my hand.
Reclining on a soft sofa under a magical shower of crystals.
This is the best way to die.
