July 23, 2009
The smell brought me back. Powerful, but not like a weightlifter, more like a dictator. Sweet, but not like sugar, more like when you have a really good day that you wish would go on forever. This was a good sign and then I heard it. Nothingness.
“What happened to the angels, I don’t hear the beating anymore”, said Lani.
“Cupid happened”, I told her, “We should be leaving though, like now!”
“Wait I have to grab the rest of the ti leaves.”
I knew it was too late when I heard the slight whistling, a whistling that you don’t want to hear. The first ball of burning rock came through the roof of the building, melting the ragged edges smooth like cauterizing a wound. I heard the screaming of a cherub as one of the other fireballs found its first target. The smell of burnt sugar permeated the air and it was sickening.