You're at home, looking out the window. At first you feel at peace, watching the blue sky. Then suddenly you begin to grow hot and uneasy. The sky shifts from clear blue to green, then yellow. In that moment you know something is wrong.
The heat presses down on you. You step outside and look up — a small point hangs in the sky: a meteorite. It grows larger and larger until it fills the heavens, far bigger than the moon. It radiates heat. Your skin burns, sweat pours, and the air feels suffocating.
People start leaving their houses too, but they aren’t your neighbors. They are everyone you love: your partner, your children, your parents, your friends. You all stand together, staring at the sky as it turns dark orange.
The meteorite now takes the whole sky. You know you will not survive. Neither will the people around you. None of you will. You try to run toward them, to give one last hug, one last goodbye. But you can’t move.
Pressure builds in your body and head. Your heart pounds, your ears ring, you feel dizzy. It builds and builds until your head explodes. You are dead.
The Void
Then — only darkness and silence. You can’t think. You can’t act. You can’t do anything. You only float in emptiness. You exist, and nothing more.
They say you always wake up when you die in a dream, but not this time. You stay in the void for what feels like a very long time. Time doesn’t exist there. You remain until nothing matters anymore. It almost feels soothing. Everything is wiped out — nothing to worry about, because there’s nothing.
Eventually your awareness stirs. A dot of light appears in the distance. It grows brighter, larger, pulling you toward it. Closer and closer.
Suddenly, you woke up.