I was by the fridge in the kitchen when it happened.

The phone on the wall next to the fridge rang, and so I went to pick it up when suddenly the ice maker began spontaneously chugging out cubes and I thought that was odd. Then a cupboard door opened by itself, revealing the dishes inside–and then the power in the overhead light surged. The game show playing on the countertop TV then suddenly stopped and the screen displayed color bars with a piercing tone and then for maybe a second there was a TV news anchorman with a map of Iceland on the screen behind him. I said “hello” into the phone, but it went silent and then the flash hit. A plastic Simpsons cup from Burger King melted sideways on the counter; the black plastic frame of the TV softened its edges and began dissolving. I looked at my hand and saw that the telephone was turning to mud in my palm, and I saw a bit of skin rip off like strips of chicken fajita. And then the pulse occurred. The kitchen window blew inward, all bright and sparkling, like tinsel on a Christmas tree, and the blender crashed into the wall and the Post-it notes on the fridge ignited and then I was dead.

Life after God, Douglas Coupland