Only moments before, Andrew had been in Times Square alongside all the other revelers, wearing stupid glasses that read “2014,” chugging back a beer with his buddies and watching the mirror ball slowly descend to the shouts of "10… 9… 8 – " and then a sudden vice-like grip on his heart and silence, darkness, a feeling of falling through a cavernous tunnel that slowly got narrower and narrower, squeezing him forward now like a tube of toothpaste, the pressure almost unbearable. He wanted to cry out, but could not find the breath to do so.
An explosion of sound greeted him, and then the cries of “It's a boy!” mingling with his own.
This post is from the prompt “Moments” at Five Sentence Fiction. Happy New Year everyone!