Notification

Shrieking engines slice through cotton clouds in an eruption of vibration pouring from a Hawaiian shirt of sound. Fluorescent colours twirling in a rolling wave of flurried movement. Tickling the tiny dancing hairs of your spiralling ear canals.

The shrill piercing scream of a child ricocheting like a jack hammer against the taught tan leather of your eardrums. Setting them shaking like a shirtless meth head eating ice cream in the snow on Christmas morning.

Pinched harmonics scrape against the chalkboard of your synapses with a rusted rake of sparks. Flickering them like the lonely windows of a translucent skyscraper in a power surge.

Pouring through your nerves in a thousand directions like honey off toast onto a lush crimson carpet. Sticking to your attention like a super glue soaked thumb tack.

Rattling your focus like cascading coloured balls in a bingo game.

Ping!

Louder than a fighter jet playing Van Halen in a Hawaiian shirt while a baby cries in your ear at your job jackhammering.

PING!