Like a viper, she kissed me again. I held her tight and before I knew anything I was lifting her off the ground. I'm not strong by any means but I guess she was just really easy to lift. I guess that's her job after all (to be easily lifted) and I guess she's just really good at her job.
So I'm accidentally lifting this ballerina while getting kissed when suddenly all the pyrotechnics go off right in front of us. Remember that we're smashed right up the front of the whole thing and we were basically facing a wall of fire and light. I could feel the heat burning my arms. I felt like lightning was going through my body.
I open my eyes.
I'm still carrying her.
I'm still getting kissed.
The gust from the confetti cannons is pressing her harder against me and her head is silhouetted by the flames.
I honestly thought I had died.
How the fuck did it come to this?
Sometimes you shout into the void with a question to which there are no answers.
But I had received more than enough today, so I said a prayer to God, and then one to Richard Dawkins for good measure, for I recognised that my life had most likely peaked.