the world will end in 65 seconds.
Then the words seem to blur, to lose meaning, while I run to him, hoping he can still grasp some pieces of this strange announcement… I stop. He’s holding the hair dryer on his hand, trying to switch it off in vain. Baffled, he tries to pull the plug yet somehow it keeps on making this perpetual sound… I pass him the phone but there’s no one there anymore.
We glance at each other with startled eyes and immediately know that the time has come:
we have one more minute to live.
In a frantic attempt, we run to the window and realize there’s other people staring from their balconies, waiting for something… the skies are filled with fiery gold clouds. I cry out to him: