You buy it.

There is scariness down there. I dreamt last night that I was standing on a sidewalk lined with shops when two helicopters with an object held between them on a rope passed overhead. Everything went quiet and the sky was orange.

"Oh shit, here it comes."

The object dropped, the sky blackened and the slim outline of a mushroom cloud appeared through the smog. It blossomed, the whole earth shook violently and I was buffeted on all sides by an unbelievable wind. I screamed and screamed as I lost myself in chaos. Then it stopped. I was alive.

Someone ran up to me and I just held them while they cried.

I didn't know I had that inside me.

Writer's block gone. I can kill you all with my mind.

"Hi, I'm Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I like being cryptic. See, you know a story's good when you can't tell what's going on. Impenetrable + morose = meaningful. You go to hell, Matt Louv. You go to hell and you die."