Last night, I had a heart-hammering experience. The whole sky to the north lit up a bright blue, flickering into white and orange, a throbbing light that persisted for at least 3 minutes. During which, I thought I would have a coronary.
It turned out to be an electrical transformer in Queens blowing the hell up. Which I’ve actually seen before, when the transformer in lower Manhattan popped during superstorm Sandy. But that was 2 short bursts I was lucky to see because I happened to be looking out the window at that moment.
Last night was unearthly. Ultimately pedestrian, but let’s talk about what my cold-war fueled mind did with this little extravaganza.
Well, obviously, nuclear war. That was option 1. I was waiting for alerts on television, my mind was getting ready to evacuate ahead of the cloud of radioactive fallout.
Then, I got rational and figured, well, isn’t it about time for a good alien visitation/invasion? Isn’t it? These are the End Days, aren’t they? Satan’s mentally and emotionally impaired cousin is in the White House, gathering its disgusting minions around it. So why the heck not?
But, no. Just a transformer. And not even a Transformer! I’m relieved, I admit, but also, strangely…disappointed.