6:45 p.m. - 2002-02-07
she's on his mind, she's on his wall. she's in the corner of his eye. she whispers sweet delerium. he climbs inside and blushes as the crimson tide flows and flushes him away . . the sheets are stained; alone again and unfulfilled.
I couldn't sleep so I went outside for a smoke. our [Yaffe Nof house] balcony seemed much higher than it usually is, plus, instead of the metal bars it had cement stairs, going almost all the way down. I looked down, and there it was, a plane coming our way, carrying a huge orange bomb. I looked at it as it dropped the bomb and felt everything shake and move and the windows shattering, I got so scared I ran inside and buried myself in the blankets.
in the morning our house turned into a MacDonalds, random unfamiliar people were sitting there, scratching some kind of horoscope lottery tickets, I knew somehow I need to get 7865 in order to win and so I did. a weird homeless man was sitting next to me, he was wearing all grey and mumbling about us being ungrateful.
I went outside to see what happened after the bombing and was amazed to discover that the sea, which usually was behind our building is now everywhere, you couldn't leave our home cause there was nothing outside but water. we stood a little on the balcony, looking at it, when a huge wave came crashing down on my grandmother and other supposed relatives and neighbors. they left running and screaming and I couldn't move from my spot, the wave passed me by as if it spared me.
