Grandfather's Story

It began then, in the darkest, and most cold night anyone alive then could have remembered. If you were to ask the old, aged survivors about that fateful day of the complete oblivion of almost the entire population of our planet, they will tell you about the great white flashes of light, the sound that made many deaf, the smell of the air, and the sickness that came.
I was not alive during then, but my grandfather remembers it as if it was less than a week ago. It was as if his senses held on to that moment of doom and destruction.
When I would ask him, "Grandfather, please tell me everything that happened on that day." He would then clear his highly phelgmatic throat, and then sit, his eyes gazing far into the distance, into the depths of his memories. Then he would begin to tell me everything he knew, and everything he felt.
"It was a fine afternoon. An afternoon of blue skies, the last day in which we would ever see a clear blue sky. There were many birds flying in the air, flying south. They came in their hundreds, thousands, soaring, and cruising.
I was sitting right outside the porch of my house there, slobbering over an ice cream, although it was slightly a bit late in the season to be eating this--"
I would interrupt him and ask what ice cream was.
"Let me finish first," he would wag his long finger. "My mother was inside washing the dishes, singing to herself, and my father was in the living room watching T.V.--
"What's a T.V.?" I asked innocently.
"Ahem."
I would then nod, and he would continue.
"My sister was in her room doing whatever she was doing. We were all, obviously, completely unaware of the attack," He would stop and take a sip of water. "While I was eating my ice cream," he went on, "I was looking towards the horizon, watching the birds. In the corner of my eye I could see a child my age playing in his front lawn. Our entire neighbourhood was unaware of what was happening. The entire nation was unaware of what was happening, and then BAM!"
He coughed.
"There was a roar like thunder, cackling slightly, and a white flash as bright as the sun, maybe even brighter. I closed my eyes instinctively. It was far, far, into the distance, but even then, I felt it. It began to get very hot quickly. I dropped the remnant of my ice cream cone, and ran inside the house, into the basement (where our dining room was), and hid under the table (which was covered by a beautiful blue table cloth), all the time, screaming. The earth was now trembling and shaking, as if it was angry at me, and I felt waves underground rolling. I was practically crying."
His face would grow intense. Master storyteller, I would think to myself, except this was an exceptionally true story.
"After that, I would just remember the world around me melting, at least it felt like it. It smelled of smoke everywhere, but it was very, very strong kind of smoke. I still remember the exact things of my senses felt. Then, before I knew it, my world went completely white, and then black. My sense of feel exploded." He paused and eyed me, "Are you still following along?"
I nodded, awed by the suspense of his true tale.
"Well then, before I knew it, I woke up again in a pile of dust. My wristwatch, still running, told me that 2 days had gone by. There was dust around me everywhere. The sky was grey and reddish. I looked around, and I saw a truck with men wearing suits that looked like what astronauts wore back in those days. One of them hopped out, ran towards me, and picked me up, and then threw me in another truck, where it was a bit dark and smelly. I felt very tired, confused, but I could not sleep, however hard I tried. Until, finally, still on the truck (which was steadily moving along for hours), I fell asleep. But only for a while, as suddenly, the truck abrupty stopped, and I woke up. I saw a bright light opening behind me, and men wearing those suits carefully lifted me and carried me into a large cart, which they reeled into a room and made me take a shower."
When I came out and got dressed, I heard the first words spoken to me after such a long period of time...a man with a moustache and an army suit said, 'You are lucky to be alive.'
I was very confused, obviously, so I just blinked. I did not ask any further questions and I regret it to this day."
He paused, and I tried to digest what he was saying.
"Go on," I demanded eagerly.
"I later learned that all of my family was destroyed because of a nuclear missile. I was one of the few survivors who did not have any radiaton sickness. For years, and years, people would always tell me, 'You were lucky to be alive, Bob. Lucky that the table you hid under was made of led. Lucky that the tablecloth was made of led. Lucky that you were only a bit blinded by the flash of the missile. Lucky it wasn't an ERW. But I didn't feel very lucky. I didn't feel lucky at all."
He would start crying. I begged him no further to continue on.