Killer Time

Let me paint a picture for you. You're in a dark arena with at least 2,000 other people crammed onto a basketball court, with probably 5,000 more in actual seats. It's muggy and hot, the lights are dimmed, the crowd is restless, and anticipation is high. Suddenly the lights go out, and onto the stage walk four glorious men. The crowd explodes. I myself turn into one of those girls you see fawning over rock stars in the movies- complete with the jumping up and down, screaming, and waving my hands desperately. Mark strums his first few notes. Is that my heart I feel pounding or the beat of the song? Fog and strobe lights illuminate that stage. Those men, those magnificent men, assume their positions. Dave chimes in with guitar, and Ronnie rocks the drums. And then he sings. Brandon Flowers takes the microphone, and the music becomes alive. The crowd ignites once more. We know all the words and we sing along. We jump up and down and dance. We're showered with confetti and fireworks and water. We experience pure paradise.

This memory is a moment that will forever live in my capsule of happiness. We were so close to the stage, and it was so awesome to be able to experience the music. Best. Night. EVER!