We glided through the air on our way to the party. I gazed out the window down below, the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, people carrying on about their business.
“You hear about the new terrorist threat?” asked my Father.
“Oh hush now, they’re never right.” she responded.
“It’s never such a bad thing as to be careful.”
“Enough of that, we’re here.”

The Flite glided us into a parking hall. We stepped out of the car and the valet pushed a button as the wall opened up and the Flite almost seized by robotic arms disappeared as the walls closed.

The party was a fabulous sight. On the 75th Floor of the Arostas Building. My father is an architect for the company and is very high ranking. The party was the celebrate the retirement of the C.E.O in which my father was to be promoted.

“This place looks amazing!” my Mother cried in astonishment.

Many important people were around. We were called to toast, when a blinding light filled the room with the noise of shattering glass.