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8:10 a.m, May 18th, 2020. The day that I heard the noise. It was a day like any other. My wife, Mary, and I were out in the front lawn doing some yard work. It started off soft, sounding like a far off orchestra.

I remember feeling confused, yet entranced by its beauty. As the sound neared, I found myself becoming more and more fixated on it. The sound was so beautiful and unlike anything I’ve ever heard before.

I remember looking over at Mary, and seeing her face contorted in fear. She didn’t get it, but I did. I understood the importance of what I was hearing.

I remember watching Mary run into the house to grab the children. I didn’t dare leave the front yard. I knew deep down that I would never hear a sound more beautiful, and I never wanted the moment to end.

I remember Mary screaming my name as she put the kids in the car. She was in such a rush to leave. Where she’d go exactly, I have no clue. But I didn’t care. There was no point in running. The only thing that mattered was the beautiful, harmonious sound, which gave me a high no drug could ever replicate.

I remember Mary tugging at my arm, pleading with me to acknowledge her. I knew she was there; I just didn’t care. There was no point in trying to fight with her, so instead I sat on the grass and listened to the beautiful sound, which at this point was growing increasingly loud.

I remember seeing Mary drive off in her car, leaving me at the house. Finally, I was able to listen to the noise in peace. No distractions, no family, no responsibilities. Just the beautiful choir singing my name from the sky.

I remember watching as the sky opened up. What a miraculous sight it was. Down from the clouds came a hand of otherworldly proportions. The sound was nearly deafening at this point, but I didn’t mind. All I could feel was warmth, as if my body was wrapped in a blanket.

I remember watching the hand as it scooped up the city of Boston and tossed it into the Atlantic Ocean. I watched in awe as the John Hancock tower flew through the sky like a thousand ton missile, shooting over the horizon line. I didn’t care though, as there was no point in caring about anything anymore. The sound was so loud that all hearing was gone and that when I touched my ears, I could feel the warm, wet blood that dripped from my ear canal onto my white shirt.

I remember watching in amazement as the second hand fell from the sky and landed miles away. If I could guess, it probably landed around Albany. Why it chose Albany was beyond me. Though, I guess it didn’t care what city it chose to land on, for soon all cities would share its fate.

I remember staring up at the sky in wonder as I stared into the face of God. Its four eyes scanning for miles, searching for the next city to reclaim. Its nostril flaps flowing in and out as it licked its lips.

I remember the blinding light that shone down upon me as God opened its mouth. The glow of the light was burning, causing my skin to crack and bleed. But I didn’t care. Soon we would all bleed anyway.

I remember the numbness of my body as the heat overtook me. It hurt like hell, but that was okay. I was used to it at this point.

I remember the calm I felt on May 18th, 2020 at 8:02 a.m as a driver drove head on into my car, causing it to set fire. The warmth of the gasoline tank igniting turned me to char as I faded out of consciousness forever. I wasn’t scared, as there was no need to be. Soon I would be in a better place, free from all worry and pain.

I remember the feeling I had the first time I heard the noise. The loud sirens beckoning me from the clouds. At first I was afraid, and even more so when I saw the hands. But that quickly subsided once I realized the true beauty of the scene before me. It was nothingness, it was everything, it was pure bliss.

I wake up at 8:02 a.m every morning and rush over to the calendar on the fridge, and see that it is once again May 18th, 2020.

“Oh yes,” I said to myself.

I can’t wait to feel it all again.

Written by Mr.HeavyRadio
Content is available under CC BY-SA