The Revolution
2007-10-19 09:12![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I'm in a MacDonald's in Tehran. By chance, I look up and see - either directly through the window, or reflected in the glass - a familiar figure: the scruffy beard, the cruel, arrogant smile, and the famous eponymous dinner jacket. He's surrounded by officials and bodyguards and he appears to be sitting down to a meeting in a neighboring building.
"He's here! Everybody get down!" somebody shouts in English (or else I can understand Farsi). Everyone in the restaurant dives under the tables. I steal a peek out the window in time to see a blinding flash, followed by a series of ear-splitting booms. Glass and overturned tables are everywhere, but people are cheering. Then there's the sound of sirens, but it's all over.
Best. Dream. EVER.
"He's here! Everybody get down!" somebody shouts in English (or else I can understand Farsi). Everyone in the restaurant dives under the tables. I steal a peek out the window in time to see a blinding flash, followed by a series of ear-splitting booms. Glass and overturned tables are everywhere, but people are cheering. Then there's the sound of sirens, but it's all over.
Best. Dream. EVER.